Braydon

by Nicole Edwards

  She remembered that night so clearly. Remembered what had happened between her and Braydon in that storeroom, remembered the argument the twins had had right there in front of her. Aside from the few minutes she’d spent with Braydon buried deep inside her, blinded by pleasure from being with the one man she wanted more than anything, the rest of the night had been horrible.

  Brendon had approached her as the party was winding down to tell her that they needed to talk. Feeling a little guilty about what the three of them had done, Jessie hadn’t put up much of an argument. When he insisted that they go back to his house so they could hash things out with Braydon as well, Jessie had finally relented. Thinking back on that night now, she wished she could’ve been a little stronger, because what happened after that had been devastating.

  “What the fuck!” Brendon exclaimed as Jessie followed him into the house after they’d arrived from leaving Zane and V’s reception.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, glancing around to see what could’ve gotten Brendon all worked up after taking just a few steps inside. At first she was fearful that something bad had happened—a break-in, or worse . . .

  “Braydon’s gone,” Brendon declared.

  Was that some sort of twin thing? How did he know just by walking into the house?

  “Like gone to the store?” she asked inanely, knowing good and damn well that wasn’t what Brendon was talking about.

  His answering glare said it all.

  Rather than risk pissing him off more, she moved toward Braydon’s bedroom, peeking in the doorway. Sure enough, his bed was made and his cowboy hat and the scraggly John Deere cap he favored were gone. But other than that, there was no sign that he’d done more than go to the store or even out for a beer if, in fact, he wasn’t there. Maybe he was in the shower. Or the backyard.

  “How do you know he’s gone?” she asked when it was clear Brendon wasn’t going to explain.

  Brendon simply nodded his head toward the mantel. Jessie squinted in the direction Brendon motioned and then looked back at him. Okay, she would need him to explain now because she had no idea what he was talking about.

  “He took the pictures.”

  “What pictures?”

  “The ones of us, the one of our parents, the one of the whole family together,” he rattled off. “Need me to make that any clearer?”

  Wow. All this time, she hadn’t paid much attention, but now that the frames were missing, the mantel did look a little empty.

  Before Brendon could continue on his rant, Jessie responded abruptly, “Okay, I get it.”

  She hadn’t meant to reply so sharply, but suddenly her chest hurt. Badly. The thought of Braydon leaving . . . She’d never even considered that an option, especially not after what had happened between them tonight. Although she had felt the tension between the three of them for the past few months, she had hoped that tonight was a turning point for them. So for him to leave . . .

  Jessie worked her way to the other side of the room, purposely putting a little distance between her and the angry man glaring at her from near the front door. “Where would he go?” she asked, ignoring the conspicuously empty mantel and turning to face Brendon again.

  “No fucking clue,” he snapped. “God damn it!”

  Jessie had no idea what to say to him then. She felt the heat of his aggravation directed at her, and she knew he was looking for someone to blame. Hell, she was looking for someone to blame, too.

  “You need to go,” Brendon finally said, and his words were like a slap in her face.

  Jessie stared at him, her feet suddenly feeling too heavy to move as she nodded her head in agreement. She did need to leave. She knew it as well as Brendon did, but . . . Oh, God.

  She knew that the moment she stepped out the door, life as she’d known it since the night she met Braydon and Brendon would come to a screeching halt.

  But that’s exactly what she did.

  And that was exactly what had happened. Aside from the Sunday dinners she was invited to by Lorrie and Curtis, Jessie hadn’t had much contact with Brendon for the last three months. Brendon wasn’t going out of his way to talk to her, and she wasn’t making an effort to talk to him, either.

  And the fact that Braydon was still gone was slowly killing her.

  “Have you tried calling him?” Kylie asked.

  Knowing Kylie was back on the subject of Braydon, Jessie frowned at her sister, who stopped Jessie’s spoon midspin.

  “Well? Have you?”

  “No,” she bit out. “Not this week. Not last week. Not the week before that . . .” Jessie had given up on trying to get a hold of Braydon four painfully long weeks ago. She’d become pathetic with her repeated voice messages and her frequent texts to a man who she had mistakenly thought had cared about her. And in return, the only thing she got was complete radio silence from Braydon.

  Kylie sighed heavily as she dropped into her chair.

  “Enough about me. I didn’t come all the way out here to chat about Braydon. How are you doing?” Jessie asked, desperate to change the subject.

  “Tired,” Kylie admitted, a gleam in her eye.

  “Don’t even go there. I don’t want to know how those boys are keeping you up all hours of the night,” Jessie exclaimed. Staring disbelievingly at her sister, she added, “Are they still keeping you up all hours of the night?”

  Okay, so she did want to know. After all, the highlight of her days was generally living vicariously through her sister’s many stories of love and happiness.

  “Of course not,” Kylie said, laughing as she nodded her head affirmatively. “Yes. Yes, they are. They’re insatiable, Jess. I just don’t know what I’m going to do with them.”

  Jessie laughed. “Right. Insatiable. That’s such a horrible characteristic for your men to have.”

  “Insatiable, huh?” Gage’s deep voice echoed in the small kitchen, and Jessie nearly leapt out of her chair. He’d come in the back way rather than through the swinging door, where she would’ve expected him. He was too damn stealthy for his own good.

  Kylie blushed. She actually blushed. The woman who was married to two men actually had the decency to turn a pretty shade of crimson when her husband teased her.

  “Among other things,” Kylie finally said after sipping her coffee a little longer than necessary.

  After pouring a cup for himself, Gage moved around the table, coming right up behind Kylie and leaning down for a kiss. Jessie watched, a twinge of envy echoing in her chest.

  She’d had that. Once.

  Kind of.

  Not really though.

  But at one point she did have something that bordered on a relationship with Brendon and Braydon. It had actually been the perfect setup, allowing her the freedom to not get tied down, even if it had been a total surprise to her when she’d found out that the Walker twins were into sharing their women. Neither brother copped to having girlfriends, but they were quite open about the fact that if a woman was going to be with one of them, she was going to be with both of them.

  Jessie had realized just how true that statement was early on. And she had enjoyed it immensely.

  For whatever reason, Brendon had taken a somewhat avaricious stance when it came to her. From the get-go, they had established some sort of strange arrangement and Braydon had ended up the third. It hadn’t taken her long to realize that Brendon was the take-charge twin and Braydon just seemed to go with the flow. Jessie was inclined to believe that had something to do with Braydon’s warped sense of loyalty toward his brother. Then again, she kind of understood because when it came to Kylie, Jessie would do whatever she possibly could to make her sister happy. These days, Kylie didn’t need much help. Proven by the lip-lock going on across the table.

  Jessie cleared her throat about the same time Travis walked into the room.

  Lor
d have mercy.

  It was like a powerful cloud of testosterone exuded from the man. When he entered a room, his presence wasn’t just seen. It was felt.

  “Hey.” Travis greeted Gage with a loving hand on his shoulder as he passed him by. Obviously on his way to the coffeepot. The rumor that Travis couldn’t function without caffeine wasn’t really a rumor; it was fact. Jessie had seen him a time or two without it. She tried to avoid visiting her sister when Travis didn’t have his daily dose readily available. “Mornin’, Jess.”

  Jessie tracked him across the room, muttering a good morning.

  “How’d you sleep?” Gage asked Travis, and Jessie clearly wasn’t in on the joke because Kylie laughed at the same time Travis did.

  “Okay, then. I think I’ll let myself out,” Jessie said abruptly, pushing her chair back with a loud squeak on the hardwood floor.

  “Sit,” Travis ordered, and she’d be damned if her legs didn’t give out and she didn’t find herself planted back in her chair.

  “Be nice,” Kylie scolded Travis.

  “I’m always nice. I’m the one who threatened to kick Brendon’s ass many months ago, am I not?”

  “You should’ve done it, too,” Gage added, his whiskey-colored eyes focused on Travis.

  “Not necessary,” Jessie told them, once again trying to get up from her chair.

  “Sit,” Travis commanded again.

  “What the hell?” she asked her brother-in-law. “Last I checked, you weren’t my keeper.”

  “No, but I’ve got some news you’re gonna want to hear.”

  Jessie’s heart leapt into her throat as she slid back down onto the chair. There was only one piece of news that she actually cared about these days. And it had to do with Braydon.

  She looked up into Travis’s blue-gray eyes with a sense of hope that nearly leveled her.

  “Braydon’s not coming back to Coyote Ridge,” Travis stated directly.

  The room began to spin, much as her spoon had earlier, and the next thing Jessie knew, Gage was next to her, catching her as she began a rapid descent to the floor—face-first.

  “Take her to the living room,” Kylie ordered Gage.

  Jessie was surprised by how easily Gage lifted her, carrying her out of the room. They were moving through the doorway when she heard her sister say, “Why the hell would you tell her that?”

  “What was I supposed to say?” Travis countered.

  Jessie couldn’t hear any more of the conversation as Gage deposited her on the sofa in the living room.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

  “Yes. Sorry. I just . . .” She just what? Almost passed out from the thought of Braydon not coming home? Why wouldn’t he come back? Those were questions she wanted to ask, but she knew no one had the answers. No one other than Braydon.

  “I’ll be right back,” Gage informed her.

  Jessie looked around the open, airy room until clarity returned and she no longer felt faint. When her head stopped the tilt-a-whirl imitation, she felt so much better that she sprang from the couch and grabbed her purse from the table in the entryway before she ran out the front door and directly to her little piece-of-shit car, which was truly on its last legs.

  With a flick of her wrist, she tried to get the engine to turn over. It took two attempts, but finally, with a bone-rattling whir, the engine came to life. Thank goodness too, because Jessie looked up to see Kylie standing on the front porch, one hand cocked on her hip, the other motioning Jessie back.

  Jessie just shook her head as she threw the car in Reverse and put her foot on the gas.

  It was time to pay Brendon a visit.

  She’d clearly put it off a little too long.

  BRENDON WAS DRAPED across his couch, glaring at his cell phone, which he had resting on his bare chest and was tempted to pick up. He’d been battling that urge for the last half hour, and he still hadn’t completely talked himself out of it.

  He wanted to call Braydon. He wanted to tell his brother it was time to come home.

  Not that he hadn’t tried that already, but talking to Braydon’s voice mail obviously hadn’t been as effective as, oh, say, confronting his twin face-to-face would’ve been. That was the one thing Brendon hadn’t done yet, but as each day passed, he was getting dangerously close to tossing caution to the wind and making a beeline for Devil’s Bend, where Braydon was currently hiding out.

  Brendon sighed, staring at the damn phone in utter frustration.

  What the fuck was wrong with Braydon?

  Brendon had asked himself that question repeatedly for the last three months, but he didn’t have the answer. His twin did, but, unfortunately, Braydon wasn’t forthcoming with his reasons. In fact, Brendon hadn’t actually talked to Braydon at all during that time. Not once.

  After having gone through his entire life with his twin by his side, the last three months had been hell. Then again, it was a hell that he hadn’t tried too hard to crawl out of, so he knew he had to shoulder some of the blame.

  Never had he thought Braydon would abandon him. Not like this. Nor had he ever thought that he was capable of making it through a single day without his twin brother. Not that he was ready to brag that the feat had been a simple one. Yes, Brendon knew it probably made him look weak and needy, but he’d always expected Braydon to be there. No matter what.

  It just went to show that Brendon had gotten a little too wrapped up in himself. He hadn’t looked beyond his own selfish needs to think about anyone else. Including someone as important to him as his twin brother.

  But he had managed to survive the last few months, despite his constant fear that he wouldn’t make it through another day. Each day was spent hating himself for having feelings for Cheyenne and for allowing that to come between him and his brother.

  He was supposed to be content, supposed to only want the threesome aspect because anything else just didn’t make sense. Brendon had never questioned it because he felt as though his path in life was lined up perfectly with Braydon’s. He couldn’t imagine being separated from his brother, so sharing women just seemed natural. At least until that night. The night Cheyenne changed his entire world with a simple kiss.

  Since then, Cheyenne had taken up residence in his head, and he couldn’t seem to shake her no matter how hard he tried. She was always there, and he constantly relived that one explosive kiss that had rocked him in his boots nearly a year ago.

  One. Fucking. Kiss.

  Nothing had transpired between them aside from that kiss. At least not when Brendon was awake. His dreams were a different story altogether, but since fictional Cheyenne didn’t compare to the actual living, breathing woman, it didn’t even matter.

  For months after their original introduction, Brendon had thought about her constantly. Hell, he still did.

  But then he’d met Jessie.

  Sweet, beautiful Jessie.

  Travis’s wife’s sister.

  And Lord knew, he should’ve been more than content with Jessie because she was everything a man would want in a woman. She was fun, smart, and sexy as fuck. Oh, and she didn’t seem to have an issue with Brendon and Braydon sharing her between them.

  But she wasn’t Cheyenne, and Brendon was having a hard time getting Cheyenne off his mind.

  Then it happened. Right around Christmastime last year, Brendon lost his shit because his thoughts of Cheyenne had pushed him to the limit. He’d seen what was transpiring between Braydon and Jessie, and his selfishness had gotten the best of him.

  Braydon could have with Jessie what Brendon wanted with Cheyenne; even he knew that much. Even though they were dancing around one another, Brendon wasn’t blind. He saw what transpired between the two of them. So what did he go and do? Not thinking clearly, he went and tried to shove Braydon out. He had tried to make Jessie choose, whic
h was something he’d never done before. But it was during a bout of insane jealousy that he had been driven to that point. There was no doubt in Brendon’s mind that his twin loved Jessie. And if he had to guess, Jessie loved Braydon. In a way that she didn’t love Brendon.

  Not that the lack of love bothered Brendon in the least. He didn’t love Jessie—not in that soul-deep, spend-the-rest-of-their-lives-together way. He was pretty sure she knew that, too. But despite the fact that Brendon had some unexplained hang-up on a woman he knew he couldn’t have, the three of them had been having fun since the moment they met. Especially the horizontal type of fun.

  From the moment he met Jessie, Brendon knew she was what he was looking for. She was beautiful, she craved sex nearly as much as he did, and most importantly, she was temporary. Not to mention, when Brendon alluded that he wanted to share her with his twin, she hadn’t balked.

  Brendon remembered the night he met her and how wide Jessie’s eyes had been when she realized that there were two of them. At first he’d seen confusion, but then there was something else.

  Heat.

  Passion.

  Lust.

  Yes, he and Braydon were identical. Down to a matching birthmark on their left shoulder and the simple tattoos they each had on their upper right shoulder blade that read 1 of 2.

  But their eerily similar looks hadn’t been what seemed to surprise Jessie in the beginning. No, she’d been stunned to learn that they both wanted to get with her. And that was the only way that they operated.

  Surprised, sure. But Jessie Prescott hadn’t turned them down.

  From that moment on, Jessie had played a huge role in helping Brendon forget about Cheyenne. But no matter how distracted he found himself, Cheyenne never ceased to exist in his head.

  Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

  If he were truthful with himself, he would’ve admitted that Jessie was the ideal woman. But he was biased in that regard because it had been about the time that he realized Jessie was using them just as much as they’d been using her that he came to that conclusion.