Brayden (Wild Men Book 6)

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Brayden (Wild Men Book 6) Page 4

by Melissa Belle


  I cringe at those last six words.

  “Yet,” he adds quickly. “You will eventually, but in the meantime, a new grant just became available. It’s brand new, doesn’t require us to both be professors, and will be super competitive. But I think I can pull it off, especially if my latest paper gets published. That will really help to put me ahead of the competition. It’s for tenured professors only, and if I get it, we can still move to Africa after we marry. In fact, you not playing into the mix could actually free us up to do even more location-based work in the future.” He looks over at Dr. Lucas eagerly. “I’ve always wanted to go to Costa Rica and study the rainforests there, you know, how to salvage rainwater and perhaps…”

  “Phillip,” I say. “I’m not sure about this. I mean, we were going to be living on two salaries, and if I can’t get a job abroad...”

  “But we’re only living on one now,” he says. “That’s a big improvement from when we were both in school and relying on our parents’ help. So what will be different?”

  I don’t know how to tell him everything will be different if I’m sitting around in Africa or Costa Rica with absolutely nothing to do except help my husband collect data for his future book.

  I exhale slowly. “I want to get my PhD still, honey. And I have to be here to do that.”

  “But you can’t even try again for a year,” he says. “So if we leave for Africa in January, we’d be back just a couple of months after that timeframe. What’s a couple of months in the scheme of things? You could stand on your head and spit pennies during that time.”

  I think I’m going to throw up. I shift away from him and turn to face the rest of the group.

  “Who wants more wine?” I say brightly.

  When I get to the safety of the kitchen, I reach for my phone to call my advisor.

  It goes straight to voicemail.

  “Gerry, it’s Leleila. I would like to talk to you about my dissertation. I think the panel may have acted hastily and that my research is more complete than you all thought it was. I will be spending some of my time at Big Sky Grocer, and I know you get your lunch there sometimes, so…” I pause, not sure how to avoid sounding desperate. “Please come see me so we can figure this out.”

  I end the call and immediately press another number.

  “June,” I say when she answers. “I’m in. I’ll start tomorrow.”

  Chapter Five

  The next morning, I walk into Big Sky Grocer and immediately head for June’s office. As I round the corner in the produce section, I run straight into Brayden.

  “Hey, granola girl.” Brayden grins at me. “How are you?”

  I freeze, a half-smile on my face.

  Good Lord.

  Brayden’s eyes are beautiful. And he looks directly at me when he’s speaking to me. I’m so not used to that.

  He’s wearing a fitted t-shirt, a pair of sexy jeans, and those sinfully-hot cowboy boots again. He’s athletic and fit, but he smells so good, like cologne and soap. I don’t get it. Phillip sweats like a dog from biking, yet Brayden doesn’t seem to suffer at all from lifting all those boxes.

  Powerless to break the eye contact, I stand there like an idiot and stare back at him.

  “Do you work here every day?” I eventually get out.

  Brayden winks. “It bothering you?”

  I open my mouth to answer him, but I can’t think of what to say.

  “Leleila. How are you?” he says more softly.

  I definitely need to start walking again. I turn on my heel but call back in as friendly a voice as I can muster. “I’m great! I’ll see you later!”

  When I reach June’s office, I shut the door behind me.

  “Hi,” I say in a strained voice.

  “You sound all breathy,” she says. “Did you run here?”

  I laugh. “Right. You know me and running don’t get along.”

  “Well, what’s the matter?”

  “How many hours a week does he work here?” I ask her.

  “Who?” she starts to say, and then she looks at my face and laughs. “Ohhhh.” She goes back to looking at her schedule.

  “June!” I put my hands on my hips. “How many?”

  “Every hour that he drives you wild. Get it?”

  “Ha, ha.”

  “He asked me about you,” she says in a softer tone.

  My damn pulse goes haywire. “What do you mean?” Did he tell her we’d met before?

  “I mean you caught his attention.”

  “But he didn’t say anything…” I try to sound nonchalant when I add, “about high school?”

  June wrinkles her nose. “High school? Why would he have brought that up? You guys went to different schools.”

  “I know. Of course.” I exhale in relief.

  Luckily, June is distracted.

  “I’m a pretty good matchmaker, you know,” she says, a mischievous gleam in her green eyes. “You really should trust me on this Brayden and you thing.” Now her eyes actually glow with excitement.

  “I. Am. Engaged.” I let out a deep exhale after spitting out those three words. “You can’t play matchmaker to someone who’s taken. Don’t forget.”

  “Not possible,” she tells me. “But I want you to be happy.”

  I struggle to shift the conversation back to a comfortable place. “Have you heard from Mom and Dad?”

  “They sent an email this morning. Some cruise ship passing by gave them Internet access where they were both anchored off the coast of New Zealand. They said they tried to send the email to both of us, but yours got spit back for some reason. Dad called it electrical sputterances. You know him. Making up words as he goes.”

  “Well, how are they?”

  “They’re fine. Everything’s going smoothly and according to plan.”

  Of course it is. No bumps in the road, no doctoral issues or Braydens for them.

  “They’re worried for you,” June says. “They feel badly about what you’re going through.” She glances at my outfit. “Speaking of, are you planning on dressing for your dissertation for the rest of your life?”

  I look at her outfit. Jeans and a flannel.

  “You look awfully casual,” I say defensively as I tug at my blazer and look down at my black pants.

  “I look the part of a natural grocery store owner,” she says. “You look like a student interviewing for her first job.”

  I sigh. My sister may be younger than I am, but you wouldn’t know it the way she talks to me. She’s always been a little bossy, and she’s never stopped pushing my buttons.

  “Okay, truce.” I head for the door. “Just tell me what you need done, and I’ll get started.”

  I end up outside the store on a twelve-foot ladder. June asks me to just trace over the faded sign, but I take one look and decide it needs a major facelift.

  Before I can get started, a voice calls to me from the sidewalk.

  I look down into the eyes of Brayden. “You’re not scared of heights, are you?” he says teasingly.

  “Not unless I have to keep looking down.”

  “Well, June asked me to spot you on the ladder,” he says. “So no wobbling.”

  I pick up a paintbrush and dip it into the can of white paint propped on the top of the ladder.

  “That was a joke,” he calls up to me. “A bad one.”

  I glance down at him. His face is in shadow, but I can feel his bright eyes on me nonetheless.

  “No worries,” I say quickly. “But you really don’t have to stand there and wait for me.”

  He gestures to the wheelbarrow of pumpkins next to him. “I’m going to arrange these by the window while you paint.”

  “That will look nice and autumnal,” I say.

  Autumnal? I face-palm myself in my head and then turn away from any further eye contact.

  Distracted by the fact that Brayden is below me, I hastily paint over the faded lettering with white paint and then tilt my head as I stare at the blank si
gn.

  “I can pass you more cans of paint if you need them,” Brayden calls up to me.

  “Thank you. I’ve got a can of red up here now. This old sign just really needs a change. I can’t believe it attracted anybody off the street.” I don’t know why, but I keep going. “This building is a real relic from the Old West. They don’t make them like this anymore. It’s on the registry of historic buildings in Montana.”

  “It’s a cool building,” Brayden agrees. “I can’t believe there’s an empty suite next door to June’s store. You’d think it would be a prime retail spot.”

  It really would. And chatting with Brayden gives me an idea for June’s store sign.

  I pick up the brush again and start painting.

  A while later, I hear my name.

  I glance down at June standing below me with her hands on her hips.

  “Leleila, when you’re finished, can you paint a mural on the big wall inside?”

  “Um, I’d have to have something to paint.”

  “I’m sure you can think of something,” she says confidently. “Anyway, the lunch crowd’s going to be here any minute. Can you take a quick break so you’re not blocking the front?”

  “Sure. I’m about finished anyway.” I nod at her just as my advisor walks briskly by and heads for the front door.

  “Gerry?” I start down the ladder. “Gerry! Hold up, please!”

  In my hurry to get to him before he disappears, my high heel catches on the third to last rung. I try to shake my foot free, but the ladder comes loose from the wall.

  I let out a panicked squeal.

  Brayden quickly grabs hold of the ladder and calmly pushes it back against the wall so I can safely descend the rest of the way. But I’m so flustered I fall into his arms as my feet hit the ground.

  “You okay?” he asks as he puts his arms around my shoulders to steady me.

  Clearly, he can feel me shaking.

  I’ve seen Brayden Wild three times in my life now, and all three times, I’ve ended up in his arms.

  I catch my breath as I feel his chest against mine. My heart starts to beat faster, and maybe I’m mistaken, but it feels like his does too.

  I swallow and pull away from him as June smirks. “I’m good,” I say quickly. “Sorry about my clumsiness.”

  “No apology needed.”

  I give him a quick wave before turning to walk through the store doors. My advisor is just ahead of me at the prepared food section.

  “Gerry!” I call out as I walk toward him.

  “Leleila,” he says politely, a boxed sandwich in his hand. “Hello. How are you today?” He speaks to me in the measured tone one would use with someone who’s not quite stable.

  “I’m fine,” I say breathlessly. “Look, I’m sorry to have called last night, but I really would like to ask you to reconsider. I know you don’t think I’m ready to try again, but I think you’re wrong, and here’s why.” I exhale and begin the speech I’d prepared in my head on the way to the store this morning. “My data is groundbreaking. There was nothing else like it at the Psychophysiological Conference last year. You said so yourself.”

  “Leleila,” he says again. “We’ve already been over this.”

  “But, Gerry,” I plead. “Dr. Schneider. Please, will you try to talk to the panel about moving up my second try? A year is too far away.”

  Brayden passes by us with the ladder under one arm just as Gerry says, “Why is a year too far away? I understand it’s very difficult to have to wait when you’ve put your whole life into this, but I can’t see your heart broken twice in one year. And that’s what I’m afraid will happen if you rush into this. You need to work on your data, not just regurgitate the same old stuff. And I’m happy to help, but I want you to take some time away to get a clear head.”

  “But…”

  He sighs. “I fought for you. I really did.”

  “Gerry, I’m the best candidate for the psychology professor opening. Professor Andle had all but promised me the job. And I’m still supposed to go to Africa with Phillip, so I’m running out of time to find employment first.”

  I argue with him for the next five minutes, telling him I want to continue my research with children in Africa, and I can’t do that if I don’t have the credentials, but it’s all in vain.

  “Let’s go to lunch sometime,” he suggests. “And talk about your thoughts on your thesis and your life outside the lab. I’ll see you soon.”

  I watch him walk away then I bite my lip and stare down at the boxed sandwiches in front of me. I bet they won’t have boxed sandwiches in Africa. I bet they won’t have much at all, especially if you have absolutely no purpose whatsoever for being there.

  I hear a noise at my side, and I look over to see Brayden putting fresh salads into the shelf next to the sandwiches.

  “So you want to go to Africa?” he says as he continues to stock the shelves.

  I shrug. “If all works out, I will be going to Africa. Do I want to? You’re actually the first person who’s asked me that question.”

  Brayden shifts so he’s facing me, his blue eyes clear and attentive. “And what’s the answer?”

  I swallow. I don’t know what it is about this man that’s always made me feel so exposed, so…raw.

  “I’ll be back in a bit. I have a quick errand.”

  “See you, Leleila.” His deep voice sends shivers down my spine.

  I hustle out of the store and hop into my car. I know where I’m going, but I’ve never actually stepped foot inside. Three blocks down, I turn left onto Front Street and see the small sign in front of the store window.

  Montana Art Supplies. I throw on my signal at the last second and jerk the wheel to the right to pull into the cramped parking lot. The car behind me honks angrily, and I curse under my breath as I park in the far corner of the lot and step out.

  A bell goes off when I pass through the door of the store, but nobody even glances my way. A couple of high school kids are running the registers, and the lines are pretty long. I hurry toward the paint section and grab what I’ll need for June’s sign and potential mural. And then, I linger in the aisle.

  I had a passion for painting when I was young, and I kept at it through high school. But my parents were never fans of me focusing on art as a career. And after what happened with Noah at the party, I started to think they were right about everything. So I gradually turned away from it, and in college, I threw all of my energy into my studies.

  “Can I help you?”

  I jump. A young woman is standing next to me with the nametag Claire on her shirt.

  “Um…” I hold up the paints I’ve already grabbed. “No, I’m all set. Thanks.”

  I leave the store quickly and look for a place to grab lunch.

  When I return to Big Sky Grocer, I pull into the lot and see Brayden coming toward me.

  On a horse.

  He waves casually as he crosses the border between Big River Ranch and June’s parking lot. His cowboy hat is low on his head, but I can still see his friendly smile.

  I climb out of the car and call out a hello.

  “Beautiful day, isn’t it?” he says as he hops off his horse and ties him up next to the store. “I had to check on the fencing down this way, so I figured I’d give Blazer some exercise.”

  I step closer to Blazer and pat his chestnut fur gently. “He’s beautiful.”

  “Thanks. I’ve had him for a few years now. He’s a great horse.”

  I stare at Brayden next to Blazer with the deep blue Montana sky above and the backdrop of Big River Ranch behind us, and I’ve got an idea for the mural.

  June doesn’t say anything at first when I show her what I’ve done to her store sign.

  “It needed something,” I explain to her. “Something to attract customers other than your usual breakfast and lunch crowd. Look around right now—there’s nobody here.”

  She finally stops staring up at the sign and brings her eyes down to mee
t mine. “So you called it B.S. Grocer & Ranch Supplies?”

  “It’s funny,” I explain. “B.S. is just to get their attention. And then I painted the sky behind it with the actual words, don’t worry.”

  “You made it artsy,” she says. “With mountains and sky.”

  “And most importantly, you can see the sign clearly now,” I say. “You need to make it clear who and what you are so potential customers will see it from the road. This can become more than a word of mouth business, June.”

  She takes my arm and leads me into the store and over to Brayden in Aisle 6.

  “You’re going to paint a mural,” June says to me. She turns to Brayden. “And you’re going to help her.”

  “What?!” I say. “I don’t need hel…”

  “I don’t know a thing about painting,” Brayden says quickly as he glances at me uncomfortably.

  “Right,” June says. “But you know a thing about reining in Leleila. Or you’ll learn.” She laughs as I glare at her. “Other than the mural, I don’t want the whole place to look like an artist’s easel. Make sure she doesn’t touch anything else.”

  “June…” I try to say.

  “But this one wall needs sprucing—the paint is drab and faded. Do something creative like what you did with the sign. But don’t go crazy,” she adds.

  As she walks away, Brayden smiles at me and shrugs. “Where do we start?”

  I laugh. “You can help me scrape the old paint off if you’d like.”

  He nods. “Get rid of the old before starting fresh. Got it.”

  Brayden

  I watch the team go through their first set of reps, my mind elsewhere. Being at the store all day long with Leleila was troubling. She actually trembled in my arms when she stumbled off the ladder, and the urging I had to find out what’s bothering her was almost impossible to ignore.

  And when I found out she might be moving to Africa, of course I wanted to know why. But it’s none of my business.

  She’s none of my business.

  I blink as I return my attention to what’s in front of me.

 

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