by Melissa West
She parked her car and stepped out before she chickened out. Shaking out her hands, she walked up his sidewalk and onto his front porch. It took another second or two for her to draw up the courage to ring the doorbell, and another few seconds for Brady to open the door.
His eyebrows shot up at the sight of her, but he was smiling. Smiling was good, right? Goodness, she was nervous.
“Hey,” he said. “Did I forget something at the shop or something?”
No, but that would have made her life so much easier.
“Actually, I wanted to return your coffee mug to you.”
Brady’s eyes dropped to her hands―her very empty hands. Oh my God, she didn’t have the freaking mug! How did she not realize that before ringing his doorbell?
A grin played at his lips. “Did you change your mind on the way here or something? Or are you hiding it somewhere?”
“Actually, I realized that I forgot it, but I was already here, so I thought I would say hi.” She waved her hand awkwardly at him. “Hi.”
He bit his lip in a clear effort to keep from laughing. “Hi.”
Cringing, Kylie took a step back. Retreat slowly, save your pride! “All right then, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She turned around, sure her cheeks were redder than a jolly Santa’s when Brady called out to her.
“Hey, I just made some dinner, which I hate doing, because I always end up with a ton of leftovers. Would you like to…” He motioned inside.
“I don’t want to disturb your dinner.”
“Honestly, you’d be doing me a favor,” Brady said. “Plus, I’m a fantastic cook.” He grinned at her, and she couldn’t keep from grinning back.
“Sounds a little on the confident side.”
He shrugged. “Why don’t you come join me and decide for yourself?”
“If you’re sure.”
“One hundred percent. Join me.”
Kylie stepped inside to the smell of peppers and onions cooking and a sizzling sound in the air. “Fajitas?”
“Chicken. I hope that’s okay.”
“It’s perfect. What can I do to help?”
They made their way into the kitchen, and Brady stirred the chicken and vegetables, sautéing them with some sauce that smelled delicious. “You can throw together some guacamole real quick. I picked up some avocados at the store.” Brady passed over two avocados and nodded toward his knife set. “Use whatever you want.”
Nervousness swarmed through Kylie’s stomach. Not only was Kylie a bad cook, but she was so bad that she made bad cooks look good. “Um, I’ve never made guacamole before.”
“No problem. Just cut the avocado, scoop out the flesh, mash it, and mix in one-quarter cup from that jar of salsa on the island.” He pointed to the jar.
“Right. I can do that.” Kylie pulled a knife from the block by the oven and rested the avocados on the cutting board Brady had set out on the island beside the salsa. She sliced the fruit in half, removed the seed, then scooped out the flesh. Thank God she enjoyed watching Food Network or she would have had no idea how to slice the avocado.
“You look nervous,” Brady said, passing over a mixing bowl and spatulas to mash and mix the dip.
“You think? I’m the worst cook on the planet, and if the smell is any indication, you’re the next Bobby Flay.”
He laughed. “Nah, you know my mom. She would never have let us leave her house without some basic understanding of cooking. I paid attention.”
“I didn’t know your mom taught you how to cook. I don’t remember seeing it.”
“She liked to do it when we were alone. It was her way of making sure she had individual time with each of us.” Removing the fajitas from the hot stove eye, Brady took the avocado and mashed it in the mixing bowl, then scooped out several spoonfuls of salsa, dropped them in with the avocado, and mixed it all together.
“Your mom never cooked with you?” Brady asked, but Kylie could tell he wanted to take the question back. “I’m sorry, that was stupid. Of course she didn’t.”
“No, it’s okay. Surprisingly, she did cook with me once. Bake, actually. They were having some fundraiser at school, and all her friends were submitting baked goods with their daughters. She bought a box of cake mix and some frosting. I’ll never forget her laughter when the mixer threw some of the cake batter at us. She had it on her cheek.” Kylie stared out into the common area adjacent to the kitchen, lost in her thoughts.
Brady plated fajitas, soft taco shells, guacamole, and chips for each of them. “Can you grab a couple of wine glasses from up there?” He motioned to the cabinet beside the refrigerator, and Kylie pulled out two.
They sat down at the large table in the breakfast nook, and Brady poured each of them a glass of white wine.
“Do you ever see her now?”
Kylie took a bite of her fajitas and closed her eyes in satisfaction. “Wow, this is good.”
“Mama Littleton recipe.”
“I’ll have to compliment her on it the next time I see her.” She took another bite, stalling, but she could feel Brady watching her, waiting on her to answer. “No, I don’t see her. Or even talk to her, or my dad. They live in Florida now and are members of some country club there. They’re busy.”
“Do they know you’re back in Crestler’s Key?”
Kylie took a sip of her wine and thought about it. “I don’t know. Maybe if Franny told them. I believe she talks to my mom from time to time.”
“But you don’t?”
“You know how they are.”
And he did. Their first date was because her parents had forgotten her birthday. Missed birthday turned into forgotten Christmas presents, and soon, they went out of town for the holidays and she stayed with Franny.
Franny was a better mom than her actual mom anyway.
“I’m sorry they suck so badly. No one should have to deal with parents like that.”
Taking another bite of her food, Kylie attempted to brush it off. “It’s no big deal. They are who they are. I have Franny.” She took her last bite of fajitas, then scooped up the last of the guacamole on her plate with a broken chip. “Gah, that was so good. I’m going to have to ask you to cook for me more often.”
Brady’s eyes met hers. “Anytime, name the date. It’s just me here. Gets lonely sometimes.”
Wind picked up outside, causing some tree limbs to smack. Whatever game Brady had been watching was still playing in the family room.
“I bet. Charlie and Zac seem happy.”
Brady nodded as he steepled his fingers together and stared out over them. “They are.”
“And you like their wives?”
At that, Brady laughed. “It’s more that I tolerate them. Or at least that’s the case with Zac’s wife, Sophie. She’s very opinionated and in your face about things. I’m surprised she hasn’t introduced herself to you yet.”
“No, but I’ve heard talk around town that she’s a little on the loud side.”
“That’s Sophie—loud and feisty. Lila, Charlie’s wife, is much nicer.”
“I’m guessing Sophie gives you her opinion all the time, and that’s why you don’t like her as much? You never liked hearing others’ opinions about you.”
Brady laughed again. “Something like that.” He picked up their plates and started for the sink, when Kylie grabbed his arm.
“No way. You cooked. I’ll do the dishes.” She took the plates, but Brady didn’t relent.
“You’re a guest. My mom would have my head if I had you cleaning the dishes.”
Kylie set the plates by the sink and turned on the water, allowing it to warm up. “Is your dishwasher empty?” she asked.
“Always.”
Her eyes lifted. “Always? Who can keep that pace?”
“I’m the only one here. Kind of easy to keep my dishes clean.�
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The sadness in his voice made Kylie glance up, but he wasn’t looking at her. “So, then, we’ll rinse them and place them in the dishwasher. It can do the washing.”
They fell into silence as each rinsed a plate, then Brady closed the dishwasher and leaned against the counter, his arms crossed as he studied her.
“I sense a question,” Kylie asked.
“I was just curious why you’re alone.”
“Tonight? Franny wanted to go to bed early so—”
“No, I mean, why are you single? Why aren’t you married with two point five kids, living in a house with a white fence around it and playing with your dog in the backyard?”
A chill moved through Kylie at his suggestion, and how very much she didn’t want to answer it. Instead, she walked away, toward his family room. “You know I hate dogs. I love these shelves,” she added, running her hand over the shelves built into the back wall. A stone fireplace split the center, making the wall all stained wood shelves and stone. It was beautiful, just like the rest of the house.
Brady walked up beside her. “Right, but—”
“Thank you for dinner,” Kylie said, cutting him off. She couldn’t have this conversation with him, especially not here, where she felt so exposed.
“Kylie.”
“It was amazing, truly. Thank you. And I’m sorry I barged in on you.”
He stared at her, clearly contemplating whether he wanted to let it go. Finally, he glanced away, and Kylie knew she was safe again. “Any time. I’ll walk you out.”
“It’s okay,” she said, desperate to separate from him before she confessed that she was alone because she couldn’t be with him. “I can find my way.”
He walked her to the door anyway, opened it up, and she forced a smile. “Thanks again.” Rising on her toes, Kylie quickly kissed his cheek, then stepped outside. Cold night air enveloped her, and she wrapped her hands around herself to try to warm.
She didn’t look back.
Chapter 9
Kylie tapped her fingernails against the counter at Signs and More, her patience growing thinner with each passing second. It was Thanksgiving Day, and she should be back at Franny’s, helping her prepare their small Thanksgiving meal, but instead she was there in her PJs, all because she needed to pick up the wooden Santa sign she’d paid to be created and showcased outside beginning on Black Friday. The sign was supposed to be ready on Monday, but here they were on Thursday, the day before she needed it, and she still didn’t have the dang thing.
Which was exactly how she’d ended up there. Living in a small town had its perks, and her feistiness had spiked the day before, when she saw that Mike had closed the shop for “the holidays.” All before delivering her promised sign. Well, screw that! So she drove over to his house, had tea with his lovely wife, and lo and behold, she had a call from him that the sign would be ready this morning.
Now, she was there, waiting as Mike finished doing whatever he needed to do to the thing in the back. For as long as he was taking, she wondered if he was cutting down a tree and carving up the sign this very second.
“All righty, here you go,” Mike said with a cross between a smile and a scowl. “Here’s the sign you just had to have on Thanksgiving Day. You did know that it’s Thanksgiving, didn’t you? Or maybe because you’re not married with kids, you didn’t think that kind of thing mattered to others.”
Kylie gritted her teeth together, but with her sign in hand now, there was no point in dishing out the details. Or defending her lack of husband or kids situation. Those things were fact, and while it hadn’t really bothered her before, it did bother her now that she was back in Crestler’s Key.
“Thank you,” she said instead and passed over the thirty bucks Mike had quoted her. “Happy Thanksgiving to you.” Then she pushed out of the store before he could insult her any further and slammed right into someone.
“Oh! Sorry, I was―” Her words cut short as she took in the person she’d nearly taken out.
Brady smirked. “As agile as ever,” he said. “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”
She lifted the sign. “Just picking up my Santa sign for tomorrow, then heading back to help Franny finish up Thanksgiving. You?”
That was when she noticed that he was fidgeting with his keys. “Actually, just picking someone up.” He nodded ahead to the floral shop, and out stepped Valerie Brock―Miss Crestler’s Key, Miss Homecoming Queen, Miss Forever Wanted Brady. But in the weeks Kylie had spent in town, she hadn’t seen Valerie with Brady even once, so surely they weren’t…
“Right.”
Valerie walked up to them and smiled at Kylie. “Hi there. I heard you were back in town.”
Kylie nodded slowly. “I am. It’s good to see you.”
“You, too. Wow, it’s cold.” She slipped her arm through Brady’s. “You ready to go?”
He stared at Kylie, and she contemplated disappearing into the sidewalk. Of course he’d moved on. How could she not know this would happen? But then, why hadn’t Valerie been in the shop to see him? Or maybe she had and Kylie just hadn’t noticed. No, no, she would have noticed. So maybe this was a new thing and…Kylie was officially spiraling into obsessive-thoughts mode. It didn’t matter when or how or why. Brady was no longer hers. None of the rest mattered.
“Well, see y’all later,” she said with a smile to Valerie, then forcing herself to look up at Brady. “Tell your mama I said hello.”
“I will.” They started off and she made time getting down the sidewalk and away from the humiliation of seeing her ex-boyfriend with the girl he really should have been with. Valerie was short skirts and makeup and pom-poms. Kylie was a T-shirt girl, and back then she wore her hair in a ponytail more often than not and lip gloss was her one and only makeup item. She supposed some things worked out as they were supposed to, and this was one of them.
Stepping off the sidewalk, she unlocked her car, when Brady called out, “Ky.”
Her head snapped up. “Yeah?”
He looked as though he wanted to say something important, but instead he said, “Have a nice Thanksgiving.”
“Thanks. You, too.”
* * * *
“That took forever,” Franny said as Kylie made her way into the kitchen ten minutes later, her heart so heavy that she wondered how she walked at all.
“Sorry, ran into some distractions.”
Franny’s eyes lifted from the mixer, where she was blending sweat potatoes for her sweet potato casserole, the best in the world.
“Mike give you grief?”
“Not Mike, though he was plenty angry to be out on Thanksgiving. Thanks for putting in the call to Trish, by the way. Worked like a charm.”
Her eyes lit. “Wives have a way of getting their husbands to do things no one else can get them to do. Now, why does your face look sad?”
Shrugging, Kylie leaned the sign against the bookcase across from the island, where Franny stacked all her cookbooks, though the woman had never used one in her life.
A thousand different scents floated around the air, and Kylie remembered when Brady had come to their Thanksgiving dinner instead of his parents’. It was a huge deal, and his mama hadn’t been happy in the least. Kylie was petrified she’d be angry with her, but Brady was always the kind of person that would do what he wanted to do and would hear nothing else on it. That had been the first year that her parents went skiing for the holiday…without her.
Thank God for Franny stepping in, and Brady didn’t want it to be a party of two, so he showed, too. Before long, neighbors came over and they had a full house. But Kylie never forgot Brady sacrificing spending time with his family to make her feel like she had one of her own.
“All right, spill it before I ruin these potatoes staring at you.”
“Fine, but it’s not a big deal. I ran into Brady on the way
out. With Valerie Brock.”
At that, Franny started laughing. “Lord, that girl’s’ had her eye on him since birth.”
“I know. And she’s nice.”
“She is,” Franny agreed. “Not at all like that Paige Stills he dated for a minute there.” She shuddered. “That was a horrible combination.”
Kylie stopped mid-motion to the coffee maker. “He dated Paige?”
Her godmother gave her a sympathetic look. “It’s been ten years, child. He had to try.”
“Right. Of course he did.” Kylie grabbed a coffee cup and filled it up, took a drink, but even her love of coffee couldn’t help with the bitter thoughts she was having. He was hers, and now…
“But…” Franny set down the mixer and walked over to her. “He never looked at any of them the way he looks at you.”
“You mean looked at me. Past tense.”
“No. I mean looks. You should see him light up when you walk into the shop. That man’s heart is so tied up in you he can’t see straight. Now, I don’t know what’s going on with Valerie. It’s Thanksgiving, so it could just be an innocent invite to dinner. We do that here in the South, unless you’ve forgotten. I haven’t seen her around. But even if not, don’t worry about Brady and where he wants to be. Worry about you.”
Kylie set down her coffee cup. “I know.”
“You need to ask yourself if you want to be with Brady. And maybe more importantly, if you’re strong enough to stay. Through the thick and thin. Through the doubts and worries. Because they’ll always be there. But you have to trust him and trust that love of his for you. If you can do that, then I think that boy is yours and always has been. If not…”
“Then let him go,” Kylie said, finishing the thought. “I know that, too.”
Franny stared at her. “You know I love you. As though you were my own, even. But you have to open up that heart of yours. Or I fear you’ll be alone, and I don’t want that for you.”
Nodding, Kylie walked around the island. “I’m going to grab a shower, then I’ll be back down to help you finish up.”
