Brazing (Forged in Fire #2)

by Lila Felix

  He’d held my hand!

  My heart had nearly beaten out of my chest at the feel of his rough fingertips against my soft skin. My skin still tingled from every place I’d had contact with him.

  But that scared me too.

  I was supposed to be the girl that embraced life and lived every day with a carpe diem attitude. I was the girl that jumped off bridges and planned skydiving trips because this very day could be my last and I wanted to live as much of it to the fullest as I could.

  But Bridger wasn’t bungee jumping or tackling my fear of heights. Bridger was something permanent and lasting. And the more time I spent with him, the more invested my heart became.

  Yesterday was a full-body shove toward feelings I didn’t know I could have for somebody. It was like I had been standing at a very safe distance from the edge of a cliff and somebody had come up and pushed me as hard as they could. I’d gone rushing and stumbling forward, catching myself just before I dove right off the ledge. And now my feet were there, kicking rocks down an endless drop-off, feeling the gusts of wind as they assaulted me from the cavern below.

  What was down there?

  How far did it go?

  If I fell, would I survive the fall?

  If I survived the fall, would I survive the rest?

  I let out a steady breath and mentally shook myself. My feelings for Bridger had developed quicker than I ever thought they could, but I could adjust. I could carpe diem this too.

  I picked up the jeans I wore yesterday and a black sweatshirt that was more trendy than sloppy. I paired it with some black boots and pulled my hair into a low, side ponytail. I applied some soft makeup and slipped in silver studs. Then called it good. Not my best effort, but I looked better than death.

  I met my grandparents by the garage door and we walked out to my Granddaddy’s beastly Lincoln together. The drive over was animated as usual. My Granddaddy pointed out all the places that had changed since I’d been up here last and my Grams passed along any news she thought I would be interested in.

  Most of the news had to do with the woman we were on our way to see. Cami had apparently been sent here by neglectful parents after she’d had a rough time of it in California. Her uncle and aunt, whom I knew well, were rather hard on her at first but apparently all was well now. She’d met Stockton through work he’d done for her uncle and they’d fallen in love as she found a sort of redemption here.

  I was completely sucked into the fairytale romance and by the time we pulled up the driveway at the Wright’s house, I couldn’t wait to meet her. She sounded… amazing.

  I loved that she had this whole reformation thing going on. I could easily relate to that. Plus, she knew how to catch a Wright boy and keep him. I could probably pick up a few things from her.

  A new flood of nerves fizzed through my belly.

  My grandparents looked just as nervous as I did.

  “Come on y’all, it’s not going to be that bad.”

  They turned around in their seats and stared at me. I snorted a laugh at the matching looks of incredulity on their faces.

  “Think of it as servicing the community?”

  My granddaddy grunted his thought on that one but opened his door. Grams and I followed suit and just as we’d all stepped out of the car, the screen door slammed open and Willa came bounding down the steps.

  I had just enough time to brace myself for her hug as her skinny body slammed into mine. “Hiya, Preacher!” She greeted happily. “Preacher’s wife!” She squeezed me tightly and then pulled back. “Hi, friend.”

  I laughed at her bubbling happiness. “Hi, friend.”

  She looked back over her shoulder at where my grandparents had disappeared inside the house and then back at me. “You didn’t happen to bring anything extra with you, did ya?”

  “Extra?”

  She lowered her voice. “Like a side dish? Or dessert?”

  I laughed again. “Nope. Sorry.”

  “Well, darn.” She linked arms with me and started tugging me inside. “I should be used to it by now, but I… Well, you’ll see. It’s not something anyone can get used to. I don’t even think Cami can get used to it.”

  “Cami can get used to what?”

  I looked up to see a gorgeous blonde standing in the doorway with two hands on her hips. She looked suspicious and welcoming all at the same time. I hoped the welcome was for me and the suspicion for Willa.

  “Cam, have you met Tate yet?” Willa deflected like a pro.

  “I don’t believe we have had the pleasure.”

  “You hear that hick accent?” Willa elbowed me in the side. “She’s picking it up fast.”

  Cami shook her head incredulously. “I don’t have an accent,” she said. Then she looked at me. “I don’t. They’re lying. All of them are lying.”

  I pressed my lips together. “Have you started with the ‘y’alls’ yet? Once those filter in, there’s no going back.”

  I look of absolute horror passed over her face before she shook her head out again and offered me a sly smile. “They won’t get to me,” she promised. “I will not become a hillbilly.”

  “It’s not so bad!” Willa took a step away from me so she could cross her arms over her chest.

  “I’m a former hillbilly,” I told her. “I can help you recover. It’s not easy, but it can be done.”

  “Thank, God!” Cami exclaimed at the same time Willa said, “Hey!”

  “What are y’all doing out there? Let the girl inside already!” A deep voice called from the house. I didn’t recognize the voice right away but whoever it was had the same kind of thick cadence Bridger had. Since I’d met and talked to West before, I had to assume the voice belonged to Stockton.

  Cami and Willa flanked me on either side as we walked into the house. A smell wafted from the kitchen that made me want to turn right around and wait in the car, but I pulled from all my stores of polite society and forced my feet to stay in place. It was just food, just one meal. I could survive this.

  We could all survive this.

  “You must be Tatum,” Stockton stretched out his massive hand and I nearly shied away from it. I stared at Stockton’s arms and tried to make sense of the disproportion. His right arm was almost double the size of his left. Both were very muscled, but his right side was almost freakishly so. I vaguely remembered something about smithing. Blacksmithing? Wasn’t that with a hammer?

  “Tate,” I corrected him. “You’re… Stockton?”

  “I am. Welcome,” he smiled at me and for a second I saw a window into Cami’s world. This smile was why she gave up California and her west coast life of glam and privilege. That’s all it took, I was sure of it.

  Bridger appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. He had dressed up a little tonight in a white oxford with the sleeves pushed up to his forearms and faded jeans. His short hair had been combed, but his feet were left bare.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off those darn feet. Couldn’t he put socks on or something? They were very distracting. And adorable. And my heart thumped heavily in my chest and my mouth grew dry.

  I stretched my own toes in my boots and fought the urge to lick my lips.

  I shared one kiss with him and a hand-holding session and now his feet were causing me to stare lustfully and unabashedly. What was wrong with me? Since when did I have a foot fetish?

  A throat cleared and I realized it was his. I dragged my gaze up his distracting body and met those sparkling green eyes of his… those highly amused, sparkling green eyes of his.

  “Hey,” I squeaked.

  “Hey,” he said all smoothly and manly back. “Dinner’s not ready yet. Want to go for a walk?”

  “Yep.”

  I walked toward him in a daze. I could feel the eyes of everybody in the room on us, but I couldn’t find it in me to care. He stepped aside and led me through the kitchen, out the back door and onto a pretty porch area that overlooked his backyard.

  I sucked in an amazed breath and
found myself at the railing, leaning over a breathtaking view of the Tennessee Mountains and quaint Wright property.

  Fall-toned trees stood tall and century-like, their long, laden branches stretching over the browning grass and outbuildings. A newer looking barn had been built fifty yards away. It was a beautiful building that made me feel warm and squishy inside. I loved the idea of Cami and Stockton working hard to build it, to paint it, to keep it nice. It spoke of a home made from people that loved each other and dreamed of a future together.

  Twinkle lights blinked at me from all the lower branches. They crisscrossed over the whole backyard and in the soft light from the setting sight turned an already extraordinary place into one of the most beautiful sights I’d ever seen.

  “This is incredible,” I whispered.

  “I’m starting to think so too,” Bridger murmured.

  I looked over at him to find his eyes already on me. A shiver raced down my spine and my hands started to tremble.

  “My mama hung the lights,” he explained in a tender voice. “She used to make my daddy dance with her back here.”

  I knew what happened to his parents, but this was the first time he’d spoken about them. I had never lost someone I loved like this, but I knew what it was like to grieve. I knew what it was like to have expectations and a perception of the world and then have all your hopes and ideals smashed to pieces while you watched helplessly on. I knew what it was like to believe in something you thought could never change and then have it crumble to ash in front of you. I knew what it was like to hurt in your bones and ache in your chest every moment of every day.

  I put my hand in Bridger’s and squeezed without saying a word.

  We stood there for a long time, just holding hands and staring out at the beauty of his backyard.

  I realized I wanted this. I wanted a yard like this. I wanted a place that represented love and hope in a future and a man that cared enough about me to invest his time and energy into giving me something like this.

  I also realized that I hadn’t wanted something like this in a long time. I lived for the now, for each and every day I got to live and breathe. But I rarely let myself think about the future. The future for me was too uncertain. I couldn’t even imagine getting through my next treatment session, let alone beyond that. And I really couldn’t imagine building a home and starting a family, when that might never be a possibility for me.

  But standing here with Bridger, with the cool autumn air brushing over our skin and the faint scent of dying leaves and campfire in the air, I wanted it. I wanted it all.

  And maybe I even wanted it with him.

  “I’m sorry I kissed you yesterday,” I told him.

  “I thought you weren’t going to apologize for that?” His eyes twinkled with mischief and I saw a glimpse of the troublemaker I used to know.

  I bit down on my bottom lip to keep from giggling. “I wasn’t going to.”

  “Then why’d you do it?” He leaned in an inch closer.

  “I started to feel guilty. I don’t want to take advantage of you or anything.”

  He chuckled. “Advantage of me? You think I’d let you do that, huh?”

  “You’re just so innocent and naïve,” I teased. “I realized later that it was probably your first experience with a woman.”

  He practically choked on his tongue. “My first experience with a woman?”

  I grinned at him. “Yep!”

  He whirled me around so that my back pressed against the waist-high railing and he caged me in with his two hands. “I have plenty experience with women.”

  “Now don’t go bragging about it,” I teased him. “That’s not very gentlemanly.”

  “Woman, you are impossible!”

  My heart hammered in my chest and his mouth dropped a few inches closer to mine. “You wouldn’t have me any other way.”

  “I wouldn’t,” he agreed.

  Those fizzy feelings rippled through my body. I felt like someone had plugged me into the wall and I had this live current streaming through my body on the absolute highest voltage.

  “Good.” My voice was a breathy whisper. He probably had no idea how much I treasured that admission from him.

  “I accept your apology,” he went on. “But only because the next time we kiss, I will be the one kissing you.”

  I closed my eyes and waited for it. I could feel the heat of his breath and smell him so close. His hands drifted from the wood railing to grip my waist on either side. My breathing sped up and I couldn’t have opened my eyes if I wanted to.

  With the first brush of his lips against mine, I jerked from the intense contact. He seemed ready for my violent reaction and caught me by wrapping both arms around my waist.

  His lips brushed mine again and then pressed more firmly. I sighed at the sweet intensity of the contact. His tongue swept over my bottom lip, asking me to open my mouth to him.

  I was just about to oblige, because what else could I do? Thinking about anything else was obviously out of the question. But then the screen door screeched open and possibly the most obnoxious sound I had ever heard ruined our moment forever.

  “Good news everybody! Bridger found Tate’s tongue! Call off the search party!”

  Bridger pulled back immediately and dipped his head. His breaths came in heavy pants and I could feel him vibrating with anger and frustration.

  “West, I swear on all that is holy, you better run. And run fast.”

  The screen door slammed shut and faster than I thought possible, we were alone again.

  “Sorry about my idiot brother,” he grumbled. His face had reddened to the color of a tomato and I could feel his frustration like it was a palpable thing.

  I laughed. “It’s not a big deal.”

  He leaned forward and kissed the corner of my mouth. “Go ahead and sit down to eat. I’ll meet you there in a sec.”

  “Where are you going?” I felt a little putout that I would have to walk in there alone, especially after the entire town knew what Bridger and I had been up to after West’s deafening announcement.

  “To kill my brother,” Bridger said. “It shouldn’t take long.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Bridger

  The walk of shame in the movies was nothing compared to what I was about to endure. With West’s loud and proud announcement, I would now have to face my entire family, red-faced and humiliated beyond reprieve.

  “Where is he?” I demanded with a growl, entering the kitchen.

  “We have comp’ny, Bridger.” Stockton drawled.

  “Didn’t a good hanging used to serve as entertainment around here? It’s gonna be dinner and a show tonight because I’m gonna hang him up by his…”

  “Kill your brother after dinner please. At least have the decency to wait until the preacher is gone.” Cami giggled.

  Preacher grumbled from his seat at the table. “If he makes it through the meal.” That earned him an arm pinch by his wife who smiled graciously throughout all the family drama. Cami bustled in the kitchen humming to herself, so proud of whatever noxious concoction she’d prepared.

  We needed a chef in the family.

  “Wash up you two.” Willa pulled something from the oven and motioned toward me and someone behind me. I knew the touch as soon as I felt it. Tate’s lissome fingers danced along the inside of my palm for an instant, clueing me into her presence behind me. At the kitchen sink, she bumped my hip more than once trying to get me to loosen up. For her sake, I did.

  We all took seats at the table when Stockton called out, “Come on West. I took Bridger’s knife. He’s gonna let you have one last supper.”

  West crept out slowly from the broom closet and made Willa move over so he could sit as far away from me as possible. That wouldn’t help him one bit because as soon as he sat down I pictured myself vaulting over the table and taking him down with my hands around his throat. Then I’d feed him to the pigs.

  Not really. I loved my brother.
>
  Mostly.

  Anyway, I wouldn’t kill him until the preacher was gone.

  Stockton cleared his throat and filled the silence. “Preacher, won’t you bless the meal?”

  We all stifled a chuckle at Preacher’s uncharacteristic shudder. Of course, as a minister, he’d never shied away from praying, but he looked particularly wary of praying over the dishes that Cami was placing on the table.

  “Lord in heaven. We pray that the talk around the table be a blessing to our souls and the meal—um—sit well in our stomachs. In Jesus’ name. Amen.” We all resounded a unified Amen.

  Poor Cami. She doled out the food with such pride. Her main dish looked like it was supposed to be chicken pot pie, but the crust was tougher than road pavement and the middle was cold.

  “Enjoy everybody!” She cheerfully clapped her hands and dug in.

  I watched Stockton’s face as he was the second to take a bite, but soon realized I couldn’t trust him when it came to Cami’s cooking. I didn’t know if he looked over the flaw to keep the peace or because he was in so deep that he didn’t see it at all.

  We all managed to pull off fake eating by shoving the food around the plate, making a hole in the middle so that it looked like we’d eaten a dent in it.

  I’d only taken two bites and it was green beans.

  But Cami’s cooking wasn’t the only reason I was having trouble eating. I could easily blame it on Tate’s proximity—easy. She was sitting right next to me and not so accidentally bumping my leg with hers every five seconds.

  West was to blame and Willa was now his accomplice. They were both making kissy lips every time I looked up and once West, when no one else was looking, began to make motions with his tongue so crude that I was sure Preacher Wife would fall victim to a stroke if she looked up.

  West Wright was going straight to hell.

  Sooner than normal, everyone was done. West and Willa were made to do the dishes, on order from Stockton. Maybe I wasn’t the only witness to their shenanigans.