“Hey, Brayden,” I call out.
He turns around, his eyes lighting up as he sees me. “Hey, Leleila. How are you?”
As usual, he doesn’t ask in that cursory greeting so many people use where they don’t really want to know the answer. He asks like he’s honestly interested.
And for the second time today, I really want to tell someone.
“Do you have a minute?” I ask him.
He holds up the paper bag in his hand. “I was going to eat lunch. I’ve got a giant turkey sandwich I picked up at the café and a cup of fries. It’s plenty for two. You want to join me?”
“Um…”
His bright eyes lock with mine. “Look, we said we’d be friends, hang out as friends until your wedding.”
I lick my lips. “Brayden…”
But he doesn’t give me a chance to overthink it. The blue in his eyes just gets clearer, and he nods with far more assurance than I have. “Just friends hanging out. You can tell me what’s got you looking sadder than usual.”
I tug at the strap of my purse. “Sure. Let’s go eat.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
We step over the fence separating June’s store from Big River Ranch, and Brayden leads me to what he says is his favorite part of the ranch. The pine trees thicken as we walk along the trail, but the path opens out onto a clearing.
I can’t help but gasp. There’s a swinging wooden bench a few feet away, but that’s the only man-made thing I can see. Massive pine trees surround the clearing, and I glimpse a powerful river running just off to the right. I twist my neck so I can stare at the Montana sky, appearing even bigger out here than it does in town, and then I bring my gaze down to where Brayden’s watching me.
“Wow,” I say to him. “It’s incredible here.”
We step into the clearing, and Brayden takes a seat on the bench overlooking the rushing river. I sit cross-legged next to him.
It’s a breezy day, but the sun is shining, and the comforting Montana sky is a clear blue.
Much like Brayden’s eyes when I lower my gaze to meet his.
He points at the nearest tree. “Look at that crazy squirrel chasing the other one around and around the trunk and then high up into the branches. They play all day long sometimes.”
I feel the blood return to my face. “Is it easy for you to sit and do nothing?”
Brayden chuckles. “Is that a compliment or something else?”
I smile. “It’s a compliment.”
“Well, I don’t know. Yeah, I guess it is pretty easy. I’m not a list person. I don’t have a whole lot of to-dos every day. I try to get the big things done, and that’s about it.”
I like sitting around, doing nothing, too. I like not having equations and measurements running through my head the way I have with my PhD program and when I help Phillip.
Brayden searches my face. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Sure. Maybe a male opinion will be different,” I say.
When I’m finished telling him about my breakfast with Gerry, I look at Brayden hopefully. “Do you think it’s that bad what Phillip did?”
He squirms and doesn’t say anything one way or the other, but I see the flash of anger cross his face.
“You wouldn’t have done that, would you?” I say.
“I don’t…” Brayden begins awkwardly.
“Would you have done it?” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
“No,” he says in a firm tone. “I wouldn’t have. And I absolutely wouldn’t have kept it from you either. Not that or the conversation he had with your advisor. Especially not if you were the woman I was living with and planned to marry. I wouldn’t keep a secret like that from you. It was your dissertation and your data. If he knew it needed to be improved upon before you presented, he should have told you that rather than try to fix the situation himself.”
Exactly.
“It sounds like he meant well, though,” Brayden adds. “He tried to help.”
“He did.”
Neither of us adds that his reason for helping had more to do with his own needs than mine. At one point, my needs and Phillip’s were the same. But lately, that hasn’t been the case. And it’s nobody’s fault; sometimes you grow out of a relationship.
“We were so young when we got together,” I murmur almost to myself.
“How old were you when you started dating?”
“I was sixteen. I met him right after the party where I ran into you. We’ve been together ever since.”
“I’m glad he was there for you.”
“Me too. I owe him a lot.” I exhale heavily.
“Sounds like that’s a burden.”
“And yet I’m walking into this with my own two feet and making my own decisions along the way,” I say. “I have nothing to complain about.”
“Sometimes things feel out of our control.” The words come out raw. “Don’t you think?”
“Sometimes. I guess sometimes when I’m with my fiancé, I feel like I have to be somebody I’m not.” It’s the first time I’ve confessed that out loud to anyone before, and I feel like I’m betraying Phillip just for speaking it.
“Like a scientist?” Brayden asks me.
“Like a saint,” I say without meaning to. “Like I have to be exactly what he wants, or else he’ll reject me. I guess that’s sort of how I felt growing up in my family, so it’s a pattern I’m working on changing. Being myself no matter what.”
Brayden’s warm hand touches my arm. “Do you believe in following your heart?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure I do.” I could add that I’m not sure I love Phillip enough to marry him, that I’m not sure I’m in love with him at all, and that I didn’t really know any of this until I ran into Brayden again after twelve years of walking through life half-numb.
Like he always does, Brayden finds a way to soothe me. “You want to lie down on the truck bed and look at the sky?” he asks me.
Lying down and looking at the ceiling—or the sky—together has become a bit of a tradition for us. And I love it. I love doing nothing with somebody and having it feel so important.
“Yes,” I say. “That sounds nice.”
I lie down next to him and shut my eyes. I hear Brayden settle next to me, and I open my eyes and look at the sky.
“Beautiful day today,” he says.
“It is. Nothing better than a clear sky in Montana.” I point to the lone cloud off to the left. “That cloud looks like a cheetah.”
He lets out a low chuckle. “Cheetahs are fast. I’m not sure how I feel about fast.”
“You like to take your time?” I say, wondering if that statement holds true in the bedroom as well.
“I guess it depends on the situation. Or the moment.” Brayden stops, almost as if he’s fighting himself. But then he says in a voice laced with longing, “I’m not that picky if it feels right.”
Me neither.
Unconsciously, I reach for my left ring finger.
And I freeze.
I never bought any red string. I didn’t even go out to try to find any red string because I saw Brayden in the parking lot and I forgot. I rub at my finger in a panic as if I can bring back the ring magically.
Brayden picks up my left hand and touches my bare ring finger. “What happened to it?”
I jerk my head up to look at him, wondering when he noticed, but his expression is blank.
“It’s gone.” I shrug. “Sometime between yesterday and today, it disappeared. Phillip had sworn his knot couldn’t come undone.” I glance down at my bare finger. “But it did.”
The loud ring tone of Save the Soil breaks the thick silence between us.
I wrestle my phone out of my coat pocket and answer it as I sit up. “Hello?”
“The test results just came in,” Patsy says. “It’s bad.”
“How bad?”
“As bad as it could be. You know what that means.”
“Jesus,” I say quietly.
“Where did this soil come from, Leleila?” she asks me. “Because this is no mild toxin here. This is a serious contaminant.”
“Give me a little time, and I’ll get back to you,” I say.
I disconnect the call and turn to Brayden. “We need to talk to your neighbors.”
He looks at my face. “The sample results came in. What did they find?”
“In terms of contaminants on a scale of zero to ten? It’s a hundred,” I say.
When I get home, I go straight to my computer and pull up all my data where I stare at it until I’m dizzy. Remembering Gerry’s question to me after I failed, I look at my data more carefully than ever before, and I start to see the flaws for the first time. What I realize, though, is I wouldn’t have changed a thing. I believe wholeheartedly in my thesis. I believe I gave it my best shot. I just don’t think the panel and I would have ever been on the same page. And that’s not Phillip’s fault, or Gerry’s, or the panel’s. It’s also not mine. Sometimes, things just aren’t meant to be.
I rest my chin in my hand and stare at the screen. I extrapolated one data set after another, but what I never did—not once—was extrapolate why I was really pursuing this degree. I always wanted to help people, but I never stopped to consider another way. A way I could truly be passionate about.
I walk over to my easel and look at the painting I completed. And I smile.
This is what I love to do.
Brayden picks me up for dance class, and as we drive to the store, he lets me know that the ranch owners are going straight to the authorities with the information he provided.
“They wanted to know who helped me,” he says. “I gave them your name and the name of your parents’ foundation. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course,” I say. “You did the right thing. Hopefully, they’ll be able to resolve this in time before anyone gets sick and the surrounding area risks further poisoning.”
We walk into Big Sky Grocer and head upstairs.
Ten minutes into class, Elroy shouts our names in frustration. Brayden and I have been dancing awkwardly since the lesson began tonight. I’m not sure why, but we’re behaving more like strangers right now than we have any other week here.
“You two—pay attention now. You seem distracted tonight. You have the basics under your belt. Now take it a step further. I want to feel your heat!”
Brayden leans in and says in a low tone, “Just feel the music. Think of it like an exercise. We can’t look like robots, or it won’t work.”
I nod at him, and we try again. I shift my hips to the music, moving closer to Brayden and then back. I lose awareness of the rest of the class and even of Elroy barking out comments. I just keep my gaze on Brayden’s beautiful blue eyes, and I let go of trying to control the moment. The music gets louder, and Brayden and I move even closer together, his chest touching mine as he wraps his arm tightly around my waist. I feel like we’re moving as one, and it’s amazing.
Elroy applauds heartily and shouts for everyone’s attention.
“Today’s my birthday,” he says with a dramatic pause, which we all fill by clapping and cheering. “Thank you, thank you—so we’re going to end class tonight with champagne!”
He reaches behind him for the bottle. “And I’ve got more where this came from if we run out.”
An hour and a half later, I stumble out of Big Sky Grocer. Brayden has his arm around me, not in a disrespectful way, more in a “you’re going to fall onto your ass if somebody doesn’t hold you up” kind of way.
That’s right. I got drunk off three glasses of champagne.
Brayden stopped at a half glass and said he’d stay sober to drive me home.
I’ve never been a drinker, not just at parties but also in life. That feeling of being out of control is one of the worst feelings I can have, and I try to avoid it whenever possible.
But tonight? After the argument I had with Phillip and the way I’ve felt ever since, not just about him but about my career plans, a glass of champagne was just what I needed.
And a second.
Then a third.
Because the bottom line is—I trust Brayden.
I trust him not to take advantage of me.
I trust him to keep me safe.
And I trust him to be my friend.
My best friend.
I trip as we turn the corner toward Brayden’s truck, and he tightens his hold on me.
“Let’s stop for a second so you can get your bearings,” he says.
I glance up at the sky littered with stars. I can pick out the Big Dipper and Orion clearly, and as I keep looking…
“A shooting star!”
“Cool.” Brayden stares at the sky. “Do you know what shooting stars are?”
“They’re little chunks of rock in space. The same as a meteor.” My drunken mouth won’t shut up as I ramble on about how meteor showers happen when the earth passes through the path of a comet. “But shooting stars happen nightly.” I tell him how you’re supposed to be able to see more shooting stars just before dawn than earlier in the night, “Because we’re facing the direction in which the earth is moving at that time. So we intercept more of the stuff in space.”
“Do you remember everything that you learned in school?” Brayden teases me. “Or just the questions I’ve happened to ask?”
“I remember things, but apparently that didn’t help with my defense.” I laugh. “I’m great at trivia games, though, if you ever need a partner.”
Long pause. Then, my tongue still loose from the alcohol, I say what’s been on my mind all afternoon and evening.
“I’m thinking of dropping out of the PhD program.”
Until I say it out loud to somebody else— somebody who won’t judge me—I didn’t realize I was that certain about it myself.
Brayden’s focus shifts from the sky to my face. “Wow. When did you decide?”
“When I left campus today and I went home…” I stop. “I guess I just realized something felt off.”
“Because you don’t love it anymore?” he asks me.
“Because I never loved it,” I say, and I realize it’s true as I say it. “I loved taking tests, and being right, and knowing if I was right that there was a test that would prove it, you know? I loved having a teacher with me, at all times, to tell me what was right and what was wrong. Life felt safer that way. Especially after what happened at the party. I lost trust in my intuition. I guess I felt like I needed a mentor, someone to instruct me on what to do.”
Like Phillip. He’s been my instructor since I was sixteen.
“Maybe you’re still making up your mind about all of it,” Brayden says as he watches my face.
“No,” I say, and I shake my head. “I think it’s made up. I’m not going to go back. I’m going to look for a job, and I’m going to paint, but I’m not going to continue in the PhD program. I’ll go see my advisor this week.”
We look at each other in silence, and I know Brayden’s on my side. It feels strange to not have to justify dropping out, especially when I know telling the other people in my life isn’t going to be nearly so simple.
I flick my gaze to his. “My parents will flip out. They’re scientists through and through. That world is all they know.”
“They must get along well with your fiancé.”
“Of course,” I say as we start walking again toward Brayden’s truck. “Sometimes it seems like they like him better than me.”
Brayden squeezes my shoulder. “I’m sure that’s not true.”
“It is,” I insist. “He and my father are like twins.”
We reach his truck, and Brayden opens the door for me.
“I can’t believe I’m dropping out. I don’t usually try new things. I tend to stick with what I’m used to.”
“Dance class was brand new for you. And you handled that like a pro.”
Impulsively, I reach over and touch his arm. “Thanks for taking the class with me. I don’t have
a clue what possessed me to decide to dance because this is all very unlike me. I’m more of a book girl normally.”
“Maybe you wanted to feel what it was like to have a life partner before your wedding,” he suggests.
“Maybe you’re right.”
The alcohol is still coursing through my veins, and my hand tightens on his arm. He inhales, but he doesn’t lean closer to me.
“Do you want to ask me something, Leleila?” His voice is rough. “You can say whatever you want to.”
My hormones are awake and dancing. “I want to…”
“What?” The word comes out strangled, almost like he can barely speak. “What do you want?”
His hands are fisted in his lap, and he’s clenching his jaw tightly.
I want you.
“I haven’t had good sex in a long time,” I confess. “Really, ever. And I’m worried I never will. I saw a therapist once about what happened, and she said people can shut down sexually. They lose trust in men and in intimacy.”
Shit. Shit. Shit. Why did I just say that? This is exactly why I should never be allowed within a mile of alcohol.
But the light reflecting from the streetlight reveals how the blue of Brayden’s eyes darkens even more at my revelation.
He shifts in his seat, facing me head-on. “I understand. I’m sorry. What’s been not good about your experience?”
I take my hand off his arm and shrug. “Everything. Phillip doesn’t…he doesn’t think I’m very sexual.”
A curt laugh blows out of Brayden’s mouth. “I can assure you, Leleila, that you are absolutely perfect in that department. Maybe your fiancé needs to spend a little more time focusing on you and not trying to get himself off.”
“But you’ve never been with me in bed,” I say, feeling how hot my face is. “So you don’t know.”
“I just spent an hour with my body pressed close to yours on the dance floor.” He tips my chin up with his thumb. “You move like sin and honey. You drove me crazy every minute. In fact, if you were single, I’d be worried I would embarrass myself with a…” He gestures to his crotch. “Full mast situation.”
Brayden (Wild Men Book 6) Page 19
