A Forever Kind of Guy: The Braddock Brotherhood, Book 2

by Barbara Meyers

  And then there’s the ripple effect. Don’t forget the ripple effect. Oh yeah. Every time she saw him, that feeling that had her leaning toward him without even moving a muscle. Too bad if Callie Maxwell didn’t like it. Too bad if she didn’t understand how tough it was to try and make a home for a little boy all by herself and to be scrutinized by the state every step of the way.

  Hayley was viciously scrubbing the sink while her thoughts went round and round. When Callie spoke, she jumped in surprise. “Everything looks fine. You can relax, you know. I don’t bite.”

  Hayley eased her grip on the sponge and set it aside. She eyed the woman, trying to determine her intent.

  She went back to the sofa and her cooling cup of coffee. Hayley resumed her seat across from her.

  “How much time does Fletcher spend with Ray?”

  Hayley hesitated. “He’s—Ray’s around a lot. We’ve become—” What? Good friends? Close? Yes, both of those, but neither description defined what was between her and Ray.

  “What?” Callie asked. She took a sip of her coffee.

  Hayley shrugged. “It’s hard to describe. But Ray’s around a lot. Fletcher adores him. Ray got a puppy from the pound. A boxer he named Oscar.”

  “After Oscar de le Hoya.” Callie grinned. “Cute.”

  Hayley nodded. “He lets Fletcher help him with the dog. They go on walks. Fletch goes over in the afternoons when Ray gets home, hangs out with him for a little while before dinner.”

  “Are you and Ray dating?”

  Hayley squirmed. She and Ray had never been on a date. “Not exactly. Not in the traditional sense.”

  “Uh huh.” Callie scribbled something else in her file.

  Fletcher chose that moment to make an appearance. He had his beat-up teddy bear clutched in one hand and the yellow foam-covered bat Ray had bought him in the other. Every night he set the foam ball on the nightstand next to his bed and leaned the bat up against it. As Ray must have known it would, the bat and ball provided an enjoyable diversion from the nightly Candyland games. Ray coached Fletcher on the proper batting stance, praising him when he connected with the ball especially well. Hayley participated as well, knowing it was better than parking Fletcher in front of cartoons. When neither of them was available, Fletcher didn’t mind retrieving the ball for himself.

  Now he hesitated much the same way Ray had when he realized they had a visitor. “Hi, Fletch.” Hayley waved him over. “You want to come and sit by me? Miss Maxwell is here to visit us.”

  Dragging his bat alongside, Fletcher crawled up on the sofa close to Hayley and let her put an arm around him. She kissed the top of his head. She loved his rumpled little-boy look first thing in the morning. Hayley liked to think he didn’t quite have all his defenses aligned the moment he got out of bed.

  “How are you, Fletcher?” Callie asked softly. “It’s good to see you again.”

  Fletcher squeezed his bear and stared at the social worker. Imperceptibly, he moved closer to Hayley.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Fletcher fell asleep after one Dr. Seuss book, and Hayley counted her blessings as she tucked the sheet around him and kissed his cheek. Whatever else went on inside his head, Fletcher wasn’t tormented by nightmares and ordinarily fell asleep quickly and slept through the night.

  In the kitchen, she prepared the next day’s lunches and tidied up from the simple meal she’d made earlier. She hadn’t seen Ray all day, except from the window when Fletcher had gone over to visit him and Oscar in the afternoon. For the past several days, Ray had given her lots of space. Maybe by now he’d thought better of whatever it was that had developed between them. Surely she had too much baggage for him to deal with no matter what he’d said the other night. He’d be right to run the other way. In fact, she should encourage him to do just that, because she didn’t want to string him along. She didn’t want to hurt him.

  Hayley reached for her bottle of wine after she stowed the lunch bags in the refrigerator. Maybe she’d forgo her cigarette tonight. For once it seemed like more trouble than it was worth to get the pack out of the high cabinet and unwrap it. She poured a glass of wine and headed for the door. Maybe Ray would join her for a little while. She missed him.

  No sooner had she seated herself than a car crept down the darkened street. It cruised past the mailbox at the end of the drive then braked and reversed. Hayley watched as it pulled into the driveway and parked behind her Mustang. Probably someone Ray knew. She didn’t recognize the car, and none of the few acquaintances she had locally would have reason to come visit her unannounced at this time of the night.

  The driver killed the engine and the lights. The door popped open, and the interior lights illuminated him for a moment before he exited the vehicle and closed the door.

  No.

  It couldn’t be.

  Hayley had dreamt of this moment. She’d thought about all the things she’d say, how glorious she would be as the wronged yet still noble party. But now her throat constricted. With trembling fingers, she set her wineglass on the nearby table.

  The driver approached the duplex and paused for a moment, but then must have made a decision and veered in her direction. She stayed where she was, in the dark, for she’d forgotten to bring matches to light her candle.

  He opened the screen door and let it fall shut behind him. He stood still, as if his eyes were still adjusting to the dim light. But he had to have seen her, or at least the outline of her. The weak interior light shone through the window.

  “Hayley?”

  “Trey.” Somehow she managed to keep her voice even. The trembling of a moment before had ceased. She waited for the ripple effect, because even though she’d been married to Trey, he never failed to affect her with his mere presence. Where was that heart-stopping flood of excitement? The adrenaline rush that started in the pit of her stomach and radiated to every limb and cell until she could hardly stand upright or think?

  It had been replaced, apparently, by a sort of cool detachment. She thought she’d known Trey, thought their love would last forever. But he’d taken it and trampled on it. Destroyed it. She didn’t know him at all. That must be why it was easy to treat him like a stranger.

  “Hey, honey. How have you been?” He advanced toward her. She looked up, and he must have seen a glint of warning in her eyes, even in the dark, because he halted.

  “What do you want, Trey?” Her tone surprised her. Cool. Detached. Slightly annoyed. It must have surprised Trey too, because he shuffled a bit and shoved his hands in his pockets, no longer sure of himself or his welcome.

  “I wanted to see you. Talk to you. I’ve missed you, honey.”

  Surprising herself again, Hayley laughed. Trey’s words were so ludicrous, such an outright, obvious lie, incredulous laughter was the only response she was capable of.

  When her laughter died, she picked up her wineglass and took a sip. She held it in both hands, her fingers caressing the stem and the bottom of the bowl. “What do you want, Trey?”

  “Can I sit down?”

  Hayley waved to the other chair. Could that be a trace of humility she heard in Trey’s voice? Unlikely. But still.

  “How are you?”

  He almost sounded sincere.

  “I’m fine. Great. Life’s a bowl of cherries. What do you want, Trey?”

  Hayley took another big sip of wine, a sense of recklessness sweeping through her.

  “Wow. You’re not going to make this easy on me, are you, darlin’?” Trey sent her one of his trademark “Aw shucks” grins and ran his fingers through his blond-tipped hair as if he were uncertain of the situation.

  Liar, Hayley wanted to say to him. It was all part of the Trey Christopher small-town-North-Carolina-boy-makes-good act. He’d been perfecting and perpetuating it for years. The press fell for it, as did every perky, nubile cheerleader over the age of eighteen. She’d merely been the first and the longest-lasting in a succession of gullible women who fell for his act.


  She sipped her wine and said nothing. She’d be out here drinking her glass of wine whether Trey was here or not, she reminded herself. She was in no particular hurry to go in. Thank God, she’d learned to keep her mouth shut these past couple of years. Never say more than you have to, never give anything away. Let the other person do the talking. The less you say the better.

  “I want another chance,” Trey blurted out.

  Hayley turned to look at him. Her ears were ringing. She hadn’t heard him correctly. Another chance? With her? No. No way. He couldn’t possibly mean that. Probably he meant another chance at the pros. But why come and tell her? They were divorced. She no longer had anything to do with his decisions or his career. Besides, she thought his injuries had sidelined him for good.

  “Another chance to do what?”

  “To be with you.”

  It started as a sort of stunned giggle, a reaction to the shock of such a statement. But it turned into a full-out belly laugh Hayley couldn’t control. She laughed until she cried, tears streaming from her eyes. At some point, she thought she heard Ray’s front door open. She didn’t chance a look his way, but she thought she could feel his gaze boring through the screens separating them and across the distance between. Then she thought he went back inside, but she couldn’t be sure.

  “Hell, darlin’, how many glasses of wine have you had? I think you’ve hit your limit.”

  Trey reached for her glass. She held it more tightly. “Touch it and die,” she warned.

  His hand withdrew. “You sure are cold, darlin’. What say we go inside and see if I can warm you up?”

  “Are you insane?” Her voice had returned to normal. Another surprise. This was the same emotional roller coaster she’d been on ever since the divorce, but it seemed to be going in the opposite direction. Instead of feeling as if the ride was controlled by an unseen force bent on destroying her, she’d never felt more in control in her life. It felt good.

  “Hayley, honey.” Trey’s voice broke. “I messed up so bad.” His voice thickened. “I hurt you so much. And I—and I—I want to make it right.”

  Oh God, Hayley thought wildly. Were those tears? Was Trey crying?

  She softened her voice. “Let’s go inside.” Trey followed her through the door.

  “You want something to drink?” she asked. She was pretty sure she needed a second glass of wine.

  “Water’s fine, thanks.” Trey sniffed and stood inside the door, gazing at his surroundings through red-rimmed eyes. Hayley poured a glass of water and a half glass of wine and headed for the couch. Trey followed.

  She handed him the water. “What’s this all about?”

  Trey took a sip of the water. His hand shook slightly. He set the glass on the table. “I got out of rehab two days ago.”

  Hayley hadn’t known he’d been in rehab. Andre hadn’t mentioned it. But then, Trey was off the team and out of the league, so maybe he hadn’t known, either. Immersed in trying to run her own life, Hayley hadn’t given Trey much thought at all lately.

  “It was the drugs, babe. The painkillers. The booze.”

  “The women,” Hayley put in, simply because that was what had broken her. If it were only his substance abuse, she could have fought it with him, would have stayed with him. His blatant infidelity? She could neither forgive nor forget.

  Trey nodded. “The women. I got a lot of counseling. I think I understand why I did what I did.”

  “Good for you.” Wow. She’d managed that without a trace of sarcasm.

  “I’m clean,” Trey informed her. “Sixty-two days.”

  “I’m sure it wasn’t easy.” Hayley didn’t know what else to say. Sixty-two days didn’t sound like much after years of over-indulging in alcohol and the more recent addiction to prescription painkillers. But, like every other addict, Trey had to start somewhere on the road to recovery.

  “It wasn’t. It isn’t. You have to take it one day at a time.”

  Oh no. He wasn’t going to recite the acceptance prayer, was he? Hayley was afraid that might bring on another fit of the giggles.

  Still, she had to admit, Trey looked more humbled than she’d ever seen him. He sounded more sincere than he ever had too. Maybe those few tears were even genuine. But something in her couldn’t quite believe he’d changed that much. He was a stranger she knew too well and could never trust.

  She took another look at him. She’d left only one light burning on the end table so it was hard to be sure, but Trey looked exhausted. Thinner than she remembered. Older. More tired. There were new lines radiating out from his to-die-for blue eyes, and he needed a haircut. His cheekbones and jawline were more sharply drawn. Trey looked downright weary. Hayley’d spent too many days thinking she looked the same way not to recognize it in Trey. Of all the emotions she’d expected to feel when she saw him again, pity had not been on the list.

  “Are you hungry, Trey? Can I make you something to eat?”

  Now it was Trey’s turn to chuckle. “You learned how to cook?”

  She had to smile. “I wouldn’t go that far. But I can make sandwiches, and sometimes I heat a pizza in the oven without burning it.”

  “Maybe half a sandwich.”

  He followed her to the kitchen and watched in silence as she laid slices of turkey on bread spread with mustard and added a few leaves of lettuce. She handed the plate to him.

  “Want some milk? Or some orange juice?”

  “Milk, please.”

  After she poured it, they sat at the table like two civilized human beings. Hayley had never expected to soften up in Trey’s presence and certainly not so quickly. She’d loved him passionately, and she’d watched the love turn to hurt, disillusion and disappointment. He’d crushed her and ground her under his heel with his thoughtlessness, philandering and substance abuse. She’d hated that she’d become bitter and cynical, sarcastic and more insecure than she’d ever been. But even those traits had begun to fade these past few months. Maybe Trey had done her a favor. He’d stripped her blinders off, shaken her out of her secure cocoon and made her stand on her own two feet. She was stronger for the experience, but she had no wish to repeat it.

  The sandwich disappeared in four bites. Trey never lingered over food. He drained the glass of milk. Hayley couldn’t think of anything more to say. She’d been talking to Trey through lawyers and public relations people for so long, she had no idea how to communicate with him directly. Maybe she never had.

  “So, babe, what do you think?”

  “About?”

  “About us.” He reached across the table and covered her hand with his, gave it a squeeze. Hayley stared at his hand atop hers. The long, thick fingers that had once touched her with love. The strong, capable hand that could hurl a football sixty yards with deadly accuracy. There were tiny, gold-flecked hairs across the back of his hand. God, how she’d loved him. But that time was so far away it was as if it had happened to someone else. She’d lived a fairy tale starring the cheerleader and the quarterback. But no one ever writes “Fairy Tale: The Sequel”. No one wants to read about the heartbreak that threatens every relationship. No one wants to know what happens seven or ten years in when the going gets tough.

  Hayley met Trey’s gaze. His eyes were clear, a glittering blue. Incredibly, they were filled with hope. And that made everything that had gone before sadder still.

  “There is no us, Trey. Not anymore.” She got the words out in a voice barely above a whisper. If she said anything more, the tears she was holding at bay would fall.

  “Babe. Come on. I messed up. I know I did. Give me another chance. I want to make it right. You don’t have to live like this.” He looked around with mild distaste. “Come home with me and let me make it up to you.”

  Hayley thought of what that would mean. No more financial struggle. No more lonely nights. No more worry about her future. She could make Trey sign a new pre-nup that guaranteed her a big chunk of his assets if he so much as looked at another woman. She could mak
e Trey pay dearly, if he was serious about getting back together. The thought tantalized her as she remembered her life of ease. She’d hardly set foot in a kitchen the entire time they’d been together, and she’d never have to again.

  But she knew she’d be miserable. She didn’t love Trey anymore. She’d rather be alone and struggling than married to a man she had no passion for.

  Hayley shook her head and withdrew her hand from beneath his. “I can’t.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Both.”

  Trey surprised her again when he didn’t argue further or try to change her mind. “I figured you were too smart to give me another shot. But I had to ask.”

  “I’m surprised you did. Last time I saw you, you were slamming the door behind me after you’d kicked me out of our house.”

  “I was an ass. You didn’t deserve it.”

  Hayley lifted her chin. “No. I didn’t.”

  “I’m sorry. You probably don’t believe me, but I am.”

  “Thank you for saying it.”

  Trey scrubbed his hands over his face. He reminded Hayley of a little kid who desperately needed a nap. “Where are you staying? You look exhausted.”

  “Oh. Hmm. Hadn’t thought about that. I guess, I don’t know. There must be a place I can stay around here somewhere.”

  Hayley nodded. “There’s a motel at the next exit west off the interstate. It’s about ten miles.”

  “Yeah. Okay.” He made no move to get up.

  Hayley yawned.

  “Um, the thing is, darlin,’ I took off without my wallet. Could I maybe borrow some cash or a credit card?”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “Come on, babe. You know I’m good for it.”