Brayden (Wild Men Book 6)

by Melissa Belle

  Brayden leads his powerful gelding, Blazer, into the paddock and returns to my side.

  “Here, I’ll give you a leg up,” he says.

  I try not to react when he takes my foot in his hand and hoists me upward onto the horse.

  Once I’m in the saddle, though, I relax. Brayden hands me the bag of supplies I need for the sampling, and I place it in my lap.

  I pat Dolly’s neck while Brayden mounts Blazer. And then, we start riding at an easy pace past the barn and down a marked trail until we reach a beautiful meadow lined on both sides with tall trees. The sky is still gray, and the rain looks imminent. Still, I can’t remember the last time I felt this peaceful.

  “This is awesome,” I say genuinely. “I really missed riding. And just being outdoors for fun.”

  Brayden smiles. “You live in Montana, and you’re surrounded by ranches. You could ride every day of the week if you wanted to.”

  “I know. But for the last five years, I’ve been cooped up in a classroom.”

  “Was it worth it?” he asks me as he slows down, and I follow his lead.

  “Not so far,” I admit. “I thought it would be, but then again, I didn’t expect to fail.”

  “You have a second chance, right?” He asks in a concerned tone.

  “Yes, but not for a while.” Too long of a while. “I’ll be married before I can present my thesis again.”

  “Maybe one life change at a time is enough,” he says.

  “Maybe.”

  Brayden turns his head toward me. “Your honeymoon destination sounds amazing. I’d love to see the wildlife there. And I bet the water will be really nice for swimming.”

  “The Galapagos are perfect for scientists.” I shrug. “Phillip wants to make the world a better place.”

  “I thought it was your honeymoon,” he says.

  “So?”

  “So doesn’t this guy want to spend all his time with you?” he says. “You know, just being happy he’s found the woman he wants to spend the rest of his life with?”

  My cheeks are now an inferno of embarrassment, and I slow the horse to a walk and turn my face toward Brayden’s. His blue eyes get bluer until they’re all I see.

  Looking into his bright eyes and handsome face, I feel my body involuntarily shifting closer to him like he has the ability to turn me on without trying at all.

  “We’re here.”

  Brayden pulls up on Blazer, and I blink out of my reverie and do the same.

  “We’ll have to walk this last part,” he says. “You okay?”

  “Sure,” I say as I dismount, and we tie both horses to a nearby tree.

  We walk for a short mile before he stops. “It’s right here on the other side of the wire fence.”

  “I should probably grab a sample on your side of the fence first, for comparison’s sake.”

  “Good idea.”

  I take a jar out of my bag and go about collecting a core soil sample. Then I label the jar and close up the lid.

  When I’m done, Brayden leads me to the corner of the field and bends the wire down so we can climb over it. When he points at the ground, I say, “All I see is the cattle pasture. Is it under here?”

  “Exactly.” Brayden kneels down, and I squat next to him. He pulls a small collapsible shovel out of his pocket and digs just underneath the surface, then he taps the area with the shovel until I hear metal.

  “It’s a container,” he says. “It’s massive.”

  I look at his face in the darkening light, and I know we don’t have much time before it rains. “I’ll have to work quickly,” I say. “The sample can’t be tested if it’s waterlogged.”

  He shovels until the container is clearly exposed.

  “Look at the label,” he says.

  “Hazardous materials,” I read aloud.

  “I don’t think it’s here legally,” he says, stating the obvious.

  “You mean they buried it here rather than pay to dispose of it properly,” I say.

  “Exactly,” he says. “Is this something you can test at Save the Soil?”

  I shake my head. “We tend to stay away from toxic dumps. But this doesn’t look good at all. The reservoir’s right behind here, isn’t it?”

  Brayden looks toward the hill. “Shit. I didn’t think about the runoff going that far; some of the town’s water supply comes from that reservoir.”

  Pulling a second glass jar out of my bag, I take Brayden’s shovel and dig deep enough and close enough to the container until I think it’s a pure soil sample. Then, I take a second core sample and put it into another glass jar just to be sure. I seal them both up, and together Brayden and I cover up the hole we made.

  I stand up straight, and we cross over the fence back into Big River Ranch. “I can take a quick look at the soil through Phillip’s scope. Then I’ll talk to someone at Save the Soil and see what can be done about testing it.”

  Brayden rubs his jaw. “I’d rather you not say where it’s from straight away. Chuck Easton’s not in the best health right now.”

  “I understand,” I say. “But this could be a serious public health concern. Do you think the owners are in on it at all?”

  Brayden shrugs. “I don’t think so, but that’s why I want the results back before I ask him.” He stops in the middle of the path and turns to me. “I shouldn’t have gotten you mixed up in this. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not sorry,” I say. “You did the right thing. Is it okay if I mention it to Phillip? He may have some ideas on how best to test the sample.”

  “As long as he’s willing to wait for the results before he acts,” Brayden says.

  “My parents are away, or I could ask them,” I say.

  “Did your parents travel a lot for work when you were young?”

  “They did. They were trying to save the world.” I stare up at the dark clouds filling the sky. “Still are.”

  “What about just being parents instead of heroes?” Brayden asks.

  My jaw drops as I make eye contact with him. “Nobody’s ever said that. Everyone always admires them for their courage and says how lucky June and I are to have such great role models.”

  “I’m not saying they aren’t good role models. I’m just saying—where were they when you needed them?”

  Usually on a fishing boat somewhere, or camping in a third world country where they were completely unreachable, or standing behind a podium with several hundred people watching them from their seats below, learning from and admiring their field research.

  “We had a really great nanny,” I mumble as I clench my fists.

  Brayden starts to laugh.

  “What?” I say. “We did! Her name’s Annette, and we’re still in touch with her.”

  But Brayden’s still laughing. And it’s contagious. I start to laugh too, despite myself. I laugh until I cry. And then that turns into a couple of real tears, something I rarely do and never in front of others.

  Brayden runs his hand down my arm. “Hey. You’re okay.” His voice is soothing and strong. It’s safe. “Did they ever take you with them?”

  “Once.” I wipe away the lone tear that made its way down my cheek. “It was a two-week trip to Belize, and June and I had school break at the same time. We were so excited to get to go, until the first adventure, where we had to wade across a low-lying river. The waters were very calm, but then the guide told us to walk quickly because there were alligators, and we were terrified.” I shudder even now. “I was convinced I’d be the one to feel those huge teeth around my legs. We made it safely across, but then June spilled a little water out of Dad’s jar specimen he’d collected. He said she contaminated it.” I let out a deep breath. “They decided it was better we stay home after that.”

  Brayden watches me, looking like he wants to say something more. But then we head for the horses and mount them in silence.

  Luckily, the soil samples are securely wrapped up and tucked away, inside the glass jars I placed in my water
proof bag, because the skies open up on our ride back to the barn.

  It pours—I mean it pours—for our entire return trip.

  My hair is plastered to my neck, and as we ride into the barn, my jeans are so wet against my legs that I get stuck sliding off Dolly.

  Brayden and I take off the horses’ saddles and bridles, and then we make sure to brush them down and dry their coats as much as possible. After leaving them in the dry barn with fresh water and food, he and I head for the front of the barn.

  “I’ll go get the truck and come get you,” he says.

  But I laugh. “I’m already soaked. I’m fine to go to the truck with you.”

  He takes my hand in his, and I’m so startled at the show of affection I just stare up at him. “I don’t want you to slip,” he says, his expression unreadable. “Hold onto me along the trail, okay?”

  I swallow and wrap my fingers around his strong, rough hand as he starts walking through the trees and toward the main driveway. It’s chilly, and I’m freezing. I fight the strong desire I have to snuggle in next to Brayden’s side while we walk.

  As soon as we get inside his truck, Brayden cranks the heat while I call Phillip to make sure he’s on his way to the town square.

  Phillip doesn’t answer my phone call. Instead, he texts me to say that he and Mindy are at the university and may be there for another couple of hours. They’re “stuck” with a slide that can’t be redone, or they’ll “lose everything.”

  I make a noise of frustration.

  “Everything okay?” Brayden asks me.

  “Fine,” I say with a quick smile. “I’m going to call Sophia to come pick me up. Turns out Phillip’s busy.”

  Trying to ignoring Brayden’s clear frown, I hit Sophia’s number. It goes straight to voicemail.

  I text her. Can you come get me at Brayden’s?

  In a couple of hours, okay? I’m having the best time with Slammer.

  Undeterred, I call June. Nothing. I text her. My sister is notoriously bad at answering texts—it could literally be a week. I don’t bother to try again.

  Out of options, I grip my phone and shut my eyes as the worst part of this situation hits me—my only set of house keys are in my purse, which is in Phillip’s locked car, which is with him at school. I could go try to track him down, but I don’t know what lab he and Mindy are using, and he has always hated when I interrupt him at work. So, I can’t get into my house, and I’m as wet as a drowning rat.

  What the hell am I going to do?

  I raise my gaze to meet Brayden’s. “My house keys are with Phillip, locked in his car. We don’t keep spares anywhere because Phillip’s paranoid about break-ins. Long story short—I’m kind of stuck.”

  “I have an idea,” he says.

  Chapter Eleven

  When we pull up to a single-story cottage with a small barn next to it, I whip my head around to face Brayden.

  “Where are we?” I say.

  “This is the guesthouse,” Brayden says. “I live here.”

  I widen my eyes.

  “Leleila, relax.” He touches my arm like he knows what I’m thinking. “I’m not taking you home to have my nefarious way with you. It just made sense to bring you here so you could dry off your clothes and warm up. If we went to a coffee shop, you would sit there shivering the entire time.”

  I let out the breath I’ve been holding. “You’re right.”

  The cottage is simple but homey with gray siding and a white door.

  Brayden turns off the truck and takes the keys out of the ignition. “I’ll come help you out,” he offers as I open my door.

  “No worries. I’m fine,” I say as I step down.

  We follow the cobble-stoned walkway as it curves and winds to the front door of the cottage. Brayden leads me inside where we walk through the cozy-feeling living room and out to a screened-in back porch.

  “This is so cool,” I say. “It’s like being outside while you’re still inside.”

  “I love to watch the rain from this porch.” He gestures to the blue couch facing the windows. “Have a seat if you’d like.”

  I sit down and try not to shiver overtly. I really am freezing.

  Brayden notices, and he goes over to close the partially-open windows. “This will make it warmer, and I can start the fire, too.”

  I glance over at the wood-burning stove in the corner. “That’s awesome.”

  “It’s all filled and ready to burn,” he says over his shoulder as he finishes closing the windows and then starts the stove.

  I stare at his ass the entire time, wondering if staring is as bad as touching. Everyone’s allowed to fantasize, even married people, right? But I’m not married yet. I remember Mom telling me she had two suitors besides Dad for a time, and they were all courting her at once. Of course, Mom wasn’t living with one of them.

  Brayden turns around, but I’m still focused on his pants area, so I find myself staring at the buttons on his jeans. I go hot and bring my eyes up to his face.

  The corner of his mouth lifts. “You want to throw your clothes in the dryer? You shouldn’t stay soaking wet.”

  I stare at him awkwardly, not sure what he expects me to do while my clothes are nicely drying—sit around naked perhaps?

  “I’ll grab a pair of my sweatpants and a sweatshirt and you can change in the bathroom,” he explains.

  I think about this for a minute before finally deciding it’s the most practical thing to do. I usually pride myself on being practical, but I don’t feel very good at it right now.

  “Sure.” I shake my head to clear the cobwebs as I stand up to follow him out of the room. “That’s a good idea.”

  I stand in front of Brayden’s front-loading dryer and watch my clothes spin round and round inside. Wearing his clothes like this, I can feel him on me as if we’d just slept together even though, of course, we didn’t. His sweatshirt smells so good, manly and with a hint of detergent. Brayden sits with his legs hanging off the edge of his folding table and helps break the awkwardness by telling me more about himself.

  He says he’s always loved football, but he loves ranch life even more. His four cousins are his best friends.

  “Plus Jenson,” he adds. “He’s Colt’s best friend since they were kids and all of ours as well. The six of us are pretty inseparable even though we aren’t living in the same place. And now, four of them are either married or will be getting married; they’re not all officially engaged, but they might as well be.”

  “Wow. That must have changed things,” I say.

  “It did. But only in good ways.”

  The longer Brayden talks, the more he fascinates me, from his relaxed attitude to the way he doesn’t seem to overthink anything.

  He spent his whole life up in Wilcox, the tiny town a few miles to the north, and he played wide receiver all four years on the high school football team.

  “You said you played with Dylan and Colton?” I ask him.

  “Yep. After we graduated, I stayed in Wilcox and got my teaching degree. I taught physical education at the high school for a while, and then I got an assistant coaching job for the football team.”

  “That’s amazing,” I say. “Wilcox has one of the top teams in the state.”

  He nods. “I love working with the kids.”

  “What do you like most?”

  His blue eyes soften. “I like how each kid is different. Not a one is the same, and you can’t coach them the same, or use the same techniques, because what will work for one of the boys will absolutely fail with another one. I just want them to succeed after high school, and not just on the football field. I want them to follow their passion. It may not be football, and my goal is for them to trust their gut. Nothing worse than getting stuck on a career path that’s not right for you. It doesn’t work, and it’s bound to make you miserable.”

  I suck in my breath. His words are hitting a little too close to home.

  “So you stock groceries on the s
ide in order to be able to buy a ranch?”

  He chuckles. “Sounds crazy when you put it like that.”

  I cringe. “Shit. I didn’t mean for it to. I think it’s amazing, actually, that you’re working so hard to pursue a dream.”

  Brayden reaches out and gently tugs on a strand of my hair. “I’m still at the beginning of the journey, but that’s okay. I’m not in a hurry as long as I’m headed in the right direction. I’m trying to follow my heart, you know?”

  I nod, my eyes locked with his, and I can’t tear my gaze away. “Following my heart has never been my strong suit,” I murmur.

  “No?” His tone is laced with meaning.

  “No,” I say in a hoarse whisper.

  He watches me as I fidget with the drawstrings hanging from the hood of his sweatshirt I’m wearing.

  “These are the best kind of dryers,” I say finally. “They evenly dry clothing and use less energy as well.”

  I look back at my clothes nervously. They seem secure behind all that glass and metal, just spinning around and around and actually getting somewhere at the end of it all.

  “Let’s go sit down.” Brayden jumps off the table and touches my back lightly.

  While the flames flicker inside the stove, Brayden and I drink hot chocolate on his enclosed porch. Phillip and I never eat sweets, and I’m getting a sugar high. I start giggling and look outside at the rain still pelting down.

  “You’re my lucky break, Brayden Wild.” Apparently sugar makes me say things that would normally never come out of my mouth. “Taking me out of the storm and onto the warmth of your porch. Thank you.”

  Brayden grins. “I’m lucky your sister runs Big Sky Grocer and that you really like granola, or I might not have run into you again. It’s been a long time, Leleila.”

  “It has.” My voice cracks, and I turn toward the window as a large gust of wind shakes the trees outside, and a cascade of orange and yellow leaves falls to the ground.

  “Why do the leaves change in autumn?” Brayden says hastily, and I know he’s trying to change the subject to something more neutral.