Brayden (Wild Men Book 6) Page 8

  I write him back. I should be able to find some time, yes. I’ll get back to you on it.

  I sit gratefully underneath the umbrella Sophia somehow tied to the back of my chair with one of her many scarves. It’s not raining yet, but it could start any second, and I don’t relish the idea of being wet and cold.

  June scampers past us with three boxes piled high in her arms. “I’ve got help coming!” she says. “I heard the county women’s shelter is sending a few volunteers over. So we’re going to need a lot of food.”

  I shift my gaze to the sky, at the gray thick canvas broken only by pockets of darker clouds. “The colors are amazing.”

  “What colors?” Sophia says. “It’s all gray!”

  “But it’s different shades of gray. At least four.”

  I’ve still got my face pointed to the sky when Phillip comes over. “You guys need any help setting up?” he says.

  I force my gaze down to his face. I want to tell him about the shades of gray, but he looks too stressed out to care. “Nope. We’ve got it covered, honey. See Sophia’s nifty contraption?” I point at the umbrellas over our heads.

  “Very smart.” Phillip nods at her, impressed. “I don’t like those umbrella patterns, though, Soph.”

  I glance back at the umbrella protecting me. It’s painted a pretty shade of purple with interlocking pink flowers.

  “Oh, Phillip, ease up.” Sophia laughs. “You hate anything beautiful, don’t you?”

  He turns red. “That’s not true. I don’t like pastels is all.”

  I wave him goodbye as Sophia taps my arm.

  “Is your mom sad you won’t need a wedding dress?” she asks me.

  “Why would she be sad? It’s not her wedding.”

  “I don’t know. My mom’s a drunk. But isn’t wedding dress shopping like this big mother-daughter thing to do together? Like an event?”

  I shrug. “My mom agrees that it’s a silly tradition. She says there are people starving in third world countries. Why would you spend your money on a dress you’ll wear once?”

  Sophia stares at me. “Wow. No wonder you’re so serious. You probably picked it up in the womb and just popped out that way.”

  I admire Sophia’s ability to be uncensored and fearless. The one time I acted like that, I got attacked.

  But ever since I failed my dissertation, I’ve felt less and less certain about playing it safe.

  I break down and tell Sophia about the dance class. And of course, she loves Phillip’s suggestion.

  “Wow,” she says, her smile a mile wide. “I wish I could pat Phillip on the back. Your own fiancé is telling you to ask the hot guy at June’s store to dance with you? So freaking do it, Lei. Once you and Phillip marry, your chance to dance is over. Or to make sweaty, hot love.”

  I let out a squeak.

  “What?” Sophia studies my face. “You know I’m right. Your fiancé is the most serious man in existence. He doesn’t have time to dance, or play, or engage in mind-blowing sex.”

  My face heats.

  “Does that push a button?” she asks me. “Good. Because I don’t want to see my best friend saying, ‘I wish I’d just had fun when I could.’ You’re going to be a professor’s wife, Leleila. You’ll be expected to host dinner parties, attend conferences on his arm, and all this other crap I know you secretly hate doing but won’t admit to out loud. So accept this God-given—or Phillip-given—reprieve. Take some dance lessons, and let your hair down for the next month. Flirt with Brayden, or just friend him. But at least have some fun with a guy who sounds like he knows what the word means.”

  When a blue pick-up truck pulls up, I immediately straighten in my chair.

  Sophia pokes me. “Is that him?”

  I don’t have to answer her because Brayden has hopped out of the driver’s side and is heading toward the gazebo. Wearing a deep green flannel shirt and dark jeans, he’s carrying a large box in his arms.

  Sophia waves as he reaches us.

  “Hey,” he calls out, his eyes on me.

  “Brayden, take my seat,” she encourages him. “A guy just showed up that I used to date.” She nudges me. “Wish me luck, Lei. If I don’t come back, I’ll call you later.”

  She jumps up and waves goodbye.

  “Thanks, Sophia.” Brayden smiles and puts down his box before he sits next to me. “Hey, Leleila.”

  “Hi. How was the game?”

  “Great. We won by three touchdowns.” His blond hair peeks out from underneath his cowboy hat, and his piercing blue eyes focus on me like nobody else is around. His blue eyes have a hint of gray in them—that must be part of the reason they look so unusual. His mouth turns up in a half-smile, and he looks genuinely happy to see me.

  “Congratulations.” I decide to tell him the truth. “So in answer to your question the other night, here’s the thing: I don’t think we can be friends once I’m married because my fiancé’s career is all-encompassing, and I’m expected to play a big role in that. He’s a professor at the university, and as his wife…” I trail off.

  Brayden nods. “I understand. You’ll have a lot of expectations to live up to.”

  Yes. My hands clench into fists. “But leading up to our wedding, which is in October, Phillip is super busy. So busy that he’s decided he can’t take the dance class with me.” I lift my chin and look Brayden right in the eyes. “He suggested I ask you to be my partner for the class.”

  Brayden’s eyes widen. “Whoa.”

  My cheeks blaze. “I can introduce you to him. He’s right over there.” I point to Phillip by the food bins. “He knows you work at June’s store, and he trusts her judgment. And I’ve always wanted to learn to dance. It’s been a bit of a dream of mine to have a fun first dance at my wedding. Phillip doesn’t want to let me down.”

  “What’s he so busy with that he can’t be your partner?” Brayden says. “Dancing’s very erotic. I would think he’d jump at the chance.”

  My stomach does cartwheels. “Our honeymoon is tied in with his research on ecosystems, so he has a lot to get done beforehand. We’re going to the Galapagos,” I add politely. “Anyway, he doesn’t have the time.”

  Brayden’s gaze seers into mine. “How do you feel about his request that you dance with someone else?”

  I stare at him. He’s the first person to ask me that, to actually care how I feel about my fiancé telling me he would prefer I dance with someone other than him.

  “I’m not…sure,” I admit. “I just wanted you to know that we can hang out and dance if you’d like, and Phillip won’t care. In fact, he’ll probably be relieved of some of his guilt.”

  Brayden’s eyes fill with concern. “I’m sorry, Leleila.”

  Okay, this is not how I thought this exchange was going to play out. I didn’t expect pity.

  Brayden tugs at the brim of his hat. “Does he, um, know we met back in high school?”

  “No. I never told him,” I say in a bare whisper.

  Brayden leans closer to me and lowers his voice even though no one’s within hearing distance of us. “You never told him about what happened to you?”

  “Almost happened,” I say quickly. “I defended myself.”

  “I know.” His tone is gentle. “I just meant…that must have been pretty terrifying. I thought maybe you would have shared the story with the man you’re going to marry.”

  Yes, that would make sense. But I’ve never wanted to relive the memory of that night. I told Sophia the one time she and I got drunk off tequila shots together, and I was horrified when she brought it up to me the next morning.

  “Let’s just say I haven’t really wanted to discuss that night again.” I swallow hard.

  “Leleila. I’m not turning you down.” His gaze flicks over to mine, and I swear I catch something else in his eyes, something close to heat, before he shutters his reaction. “I’d like to hang out.”

  “Lei!” Sophia calls out as she bounces back over to us. “Guess who’s got her
self a date for tonight?”

  I smile. “That’s awesome.”

  Brayden stands up and grabs his box off the ground. “I’d better drop this donation off.”

  I smile and wave as he heads for Phillip’s table where all the bulk food is kept.

  “It’s almost like the universe shouldn’t put those two together,” Sophia whispers to me. “Phillip and Brayden are like night and day, or oil and vinegar. I’ve never seen two people less alike.”

  “They don’t really have much in common,” I agree.

  Just then, June wanders over to them, and I watch as she introduces Brayden to Phillip. As the three of them stand together and continue chatting, I wonder what they’re so deep in conversation about. When they all turn slightly and Phillip points directly at me, I start to have a clue.

  Brayden

  Leleila’s fiancé extends his hand.

  “Phillip Rowe. Thanks for helping out my fiancé the other evening.”

  I want to ask him how the hell his work is so important that he couldn’t be there for Leleila, but I force myself to simply nod.

  Leleila’s fiancé is taller than me by a couple inches, but he’s rail thin. He’s in good shape, the way someone who bikes or runs would be, but he doesn’t look like he’s ever lifted a weight or been involved in a contact sport. He’s got lines of tension around his mouth and eyes like he works way too hard.

  “I have a favor to ask of you,” he says.

  “Okay,” I say noncommittally.

  When he explains that he’s going to be too tied up to attend dance lessons with Leleila, and could I fill in for the next three weeks, my answer is instant.

  “I can’t. Sorry.”

  June gives me a hard look. “Why not?”

  I gesture to the box of canned food I placed on the table a few feet away. “You mind helping me unpack that?” I say to her pointedly.

  She takes the hint and leaves Phillip and me alone.

  Phillip eyes me carefully. “What’ll it take for you to say yes? I can pay you double what June does for that hour of your time.”

  I stare at him like he’s nuts. “This isn’t about money.”

  “I get it. It’s time you don’t have. Time is money. I guess Leleila will have to skip the dancing then.” He sighs, and the frown on his face…he actually looks genuinely upset. “I just hate to disappoint her. I haven’t seen her this excited about something in ages. She’s going through a tough time right now.”

  I tug at my hat. “So if I don’t do it, she won’t be able to take the class?”

  “I just have no time. But maybe I can find someone else to dance with her.” Phillip scans the area like he can pick up a guy right this minute.

  A pain hits me in the gut. I don’t want to stop and analyze what it means. “Fine, if it’s just three weeks, I can fill in,” I find myself saying.

  His eyes flash with relief. “That’s great. And it’s definitely only three weeks. We’re getting married right after that, and once that happens, Leleila won’t have time to do anything frivolous. She’ll be too busy being my assistant. Now that she’s not going to be a professor, at least for the time being, I’ve decided to hire her as my assistant as a wedding gift. She doesn’t know yet, so don’t say anything.”

  I wouldn’t dream of it.

  He doesn’t have time? What kind of an idiot a-hole is this guy? Leleila Wills is the most unique, beautiful, intriguing woman I’ve ever met, and her damn fiancé treats her like she’s expendable.

  From the little I know of her, Leleila is smart, and she’s strong, but this “find yourself a stand-in dance partner bullshit” clearly has her feeling vulnerable. And the idea of any man hurting her slays me.

  For some reason I can’t explain away, I feel an urging to look after her. The way she reacted when we ran into each other again—it was like we were still on the same damn wavelength or something. Her green eyes glittered with the same intense interest they had the first time we met, and the curiosity staring out of the emerald depths nearly knocked me over. I felt her unspoken message immediately—she still felt a connection to me, but she didn’t understand why.

  So I’ll be her friend. The loneliness in her eyes is haunting, almost like she’s never really felt close to anyone. I ball my hands into fists at the thought of her dick of a fiancé demanding she find a new dance partner. I can’t imagine how much that must have hurt.

  But he’s clearly not going to help her out with the class, and she seems pretty damn determined to learn to dance.

  So I’ll be her partner.

  Because if she can’t dance with her fiancé, no way is she going to dance with any other man but me.

  I nod at Phillip as June rejoins us. “The women’s shelter just called, and they want produce in addition to canned food,” she says. “I wish they’d mentioned that yesterday.”

  “I’ve got plenty of extra produce at the ranch,” I offer.

  Leleila

  Phillip hustles over to me as Brayden heads for his truck.

  “Lei,” Phillip says in a rush of breath. “The women’s shelter volunteers are on route, and Brayden said he has extra produce at his farm stand. You mind coming to help us pack it up?”

  “Um.” The three of us together? That’s going to be awkward as hell. “Sure.”

  I follow him to the curb, but before we can turn toward our car, Phillip’s phone beeps.

  “Oh, crap,” he says as he reads the screen. “Mindy’s coming by.”

  “Mindy?” The woman he mentioned the other night?

  “She’s a researcher, and she’s new here,” he explains to my obviously worried expression. “She just moved to Montana two months ago, so I invited her to the Food Drive. She wants to help.”

  “Oh. Well, that’s kind of you.”

  “Except now I can’t leave…” Phillip looks over at Brayden just stepping up into his truck. “Can you go with Brayden and pick up the produce then bring it back here?”

  “Me?”

  “I have to wait here for Mindy.” He’s already urging me toward Brayden’s truck and waving to him at the same time. “I’ll see you soon.”

  Chapter Ten

  As I reach the truck, Brayden leans over from the driver’s seat and opens the passenger side for me. I step up onto the cab and climb in, taking care to buckle my seat belt.

  I peek over at Brayden and realize he’s waiting for me to get settled before taking his foot off the brake.

  “You all set?” Every single time he puts his eyes on me, he gives me all of his attention, and I’m not used to that. To be honest, when Phillip gives me one eye, even with the other concentrating on his research specimens, I feel lucky.

  “I think so.” I turn my gaze to the road as we start driving down Main Street. “So, what did you bring to the food drive to donate?”

  “How about myself?”

  I freeze. “What?”

  “I’ll be your friend. And I’ll be your dance partner.”

  As we reach a red light, he turns to me, his expression serious.

  I stare at him. Part of me wants to turn away because the feelings coiling inside me feel dangerous. But the other part of me wants to get lost in Brayden’s sapphire eyes for as long as I can.

  “I thought you said no to the dance lessons,” I say too sharply.

  He shrugs and shifts his gaze back to the road as the light turns green. “Changed my mind.”

  “How come?” I don’t know why I care or why I’m pushing him on something that’s clearly uncomfortable for both of us.

  “Because Phillip said this means a lot to you. And I don’t want you to have to look around for some random guy who can’t be trusted, who doesn’t deserve to be within a hundred miles of you.”

  I bite my lip. “But you’re a guy.”

  “Yep. The right guy for the job.”

  “How come?” I say again.

  We’ve pulled into Big River, and Brayden slows the truck to a crawl as we re
ach the farm stand.

  He turns off the truck and leans toward me until his eyes are burning into my hot skin. “Because I would never take advantage of it.”

  I lick my lips, and Brayden’s gaze travels to my mouth and stays there. Then, he abruptly jerks back and resumes a blank expression on his face.

  “Okay.” My voice comes out hoarse. “You’ve got the job. You’re my dance partner for the rest of the month.”

  Brayden’s nod is quick and definitive like we’ve sealed the deal. “Cool.”

  My phone buzzes in my pocket as we’re walking to the farm stand.

  “Hi, Phillip, we just got here,” I say as I pick up.

  “Scratch the produce,” he says to me. “The volunteers got into a fender bender on their way here. They’re not coming after all.”

  “Okay, we’ll head back,” I say.

  “The whole operation’s shutting down early due to rain in the forecast, so take your time if you want to grab a coffee or something,” he says. “Mindy and I are going to the university for a quick slide analysis.”

  “Wait. You’re…”

  “Let’s plan to meet back at the Food Drive in an hour or so, and I’ll drive us home.”

  I exhale. I want to ask Phillip more about this Mindy person, but Brayden’s standing about a foot away, waiting. So I end the call and fill Brayden in on the change of plans. Then, I have an idea.

  “I don’t suppose this would be a good time to get that soil sample, would it?” I ask him.

  “Perfect,” he says. “The owners are away all weekend.”

  We make a stop at Save the Soil for me to grab my equipment, and twenty minutes later, I’m tacking up a mare named Dolly and preparing to climb into the saddle.

  “You sure you know how to ride?” Brayden asks me when I miss the stirrup and nearly wipe out on my first try.

  My face is on fire, but I go for honesty. “I definitely know how to ride, yes. It’s just been a very long time. My grandfather had a ranch, and June and I rode all the time growing up. But after he passed away, we stopped. My parents aren’t into recreational activities.”