by Jennifer Ann
“And how is it you’re being so cool with this?” I ask.
His smile gleams beneath the lights hanging from the bridge’s cables. “I’ve known for a long time that you had a thing for Braden. I figure good for you for going after something you want. My friends have always called you a ‘MILF,’ so I’m not all that surprised you hooked up with someone younger. And Braden’s a cool guy. At least you didn’t end up with some disrespectful douche-bag that got on my nerves.”
Astonished by his candor, I blink heavily as I stare at him. “Your friends called me a ‘MILF’?” I’m not sure if I’m flattered or horrified. In a million years I wouldn’t have hooked up with a minor, but did I inadvertently flirt with his friends?
“Come on, Mom. You know you’re hot. Why do you think even when I was in high school my buddies always wanted to stay over at the Hamptons place? Most guys don’t have sleepovers at that age unless they’re drunk.”
“You still did plenty of that too,” I remind him with a roll of my eyes. Technically, I never categorized myself as being “hot.” At least not until I started sleeping with Braden. “God, please tell me I didn’t dress provocatively when they were around. I never stopped to consider I was fueling pubescent fantasies.”
“Trust me, I would’ve said something if you were dressed inappropriately. I had a hard enough time dealing with Trevor playing that fucking Mrs. Robinson song on repeat.”
Laughing, I cover my face with my hands. “Oh shit! I’ll never be able to look at Trevor the same! Don’t tell me any more!”
“You don’t have to worry about Trev. I’m pretty sure he’s going to marry Stephanie.” When I drop my hands from my face, he’s clutching the steering wheel and staring ahead with a thoughtful expression. “So who else knows about you two? Is this thing serious?”
My stomach does a little flip. How much should I tell him? I can’t keep hiding things from my sons, but I don’t want to get them too involved if Braden and I are finished anyway. “We haven’t told anyone because I’m not sure how to label it. We spent some time together after I flew to San Diego to fix some issues with the clothing line. We both had a really good time. There’s a lot more to Braden than I knew. I enjoy his company. And he’s a good man.”
His eyes flash back and forth between me and the road. “Are you the reason he wants to move out here for college?”
“Yeah, but I can’t let him do that.”
“I knew it! I saw your reaction when he broke the news…you’re a terrible actress. But I don’t get it. If you guys are involved, why wouldn’t you want him out here?”
“Because he loves California. And besides, I have no idea what kind of future I can offer him, if any. He’s so damn young, Con. It’s not that much of a stretch to say I could have a child his age. After all, I was only fifteen when I had you. We’re at totally different stages in our lives. He’s just starting out and has his whole life ahead of him. Meanwhile I’ve done and seen things he probably doesn’t even know about yet. And I’ve raised two children…something he wouldn’t understand. I need time to explore my options. You know I love you and your brother more than life itself, but this is the first time as an adult I don’t have to put someone else first. I can finally decide what I want out of life for myself.”
Connor’s thick eyebrows shoot to the ceiling. “What if it turns out what you want out of life is to be happy with someone like Braden? He’s done and seen things you wouldn’t know about either, Mom, like what it takes to be a Marine, and dealing with losing both parents before he had a chance to start a family of his own. You might see him as young, but I think you need to give him the benefit of the doubt. Give the guy a chance to show you what he has to offer. The way he was acting earlier when Allen threw his little fit? It seemed pretty obvious he’s really into you. And I caught you throwing him a few glances during dinner that looked pretty deep. If you’re serious about exploring the things you want, you owe it to yourself to see how far something with Braden could go.”
How the hell did my offspring become so wise on the ways of love and life?
With tears blurring my vision, I reach over to scratch my fingernails inside his thick dark hair. It’s something he hated as a kid, but he eventually understood it’s one of the ways to show my undying love. “Maybe you should consider the path of a life coach instead of this music producer thing you’re pursuing.”
“Come on, Mom. Life coaches don’t get to rub elbows with hot women at L.A. parties.”
“Depends on who you snag as clients.” Playfully tugging at a lock of his hair, I snort. “Is that why you’re choosing this path? To meet hot women?”
Lips bending with a deep smirk, he turns to me and winks. “Not really, but doesn’t hurt.”
God help me, he’s becoming more like his uncle every day.
Stomach in knots, I change outfits four times. I finally head for Leona’s in skinny jeans and a cropped floral top designed by Shar, paired with the faux fur coat Evelyn loaned me for the winter since it doesn’t fit around her stomach, and my favorite suede booties. At least in pants I won’t be as tempted this time to drag Braden around the corner for another fuck-fest, though my core still tingles with the idea.
On the short, brisk walk, I go over my conversation with Connor, asking myself if I’m truly ready to see where this thing with Braden will lead, and if I’m ready to make sacrifices of my own.
So many things could go wrong. Our siblings might freak with the news and forbid us to continue. He might resent me for his decision to move here once the consequences of his sacrifice begin to sink in. If I decide to give him a child one day, we risk the chance of my fertility not being as vibrant as it was in my teens. He could realize the age difference really is an issue and grow bored with my old lady ways. Allen may never accept us and put a real strain on our family. People may never take us seriously as a couple, putting an added obstacle in our relationship.
Worst of all, we both run the risk of coming out of this with a broken heart.
The bouncer at the entrance of Leona’s dips his chin in recognition and motions for me to skip past the long line without paying the cover charge. One of countless perks that come with having a famous rockstar brother. I elbow my way through Nolan’s boisterous bar, not surprised to see it completely packed with a hip crowd since its reputation has continued to grow over the years, partially due to Charlie’s occasional surprise performances.
The ambiance of the metal ceilings and rock memorabilia-clad walls never fails to give me that warm, homey feeling created from countless Friday nights spent on the worn wooden floors, dancing the night away with the Kendall gang. It’s almost as comforting as stepping into my childhood home—at least before cancer took my dad and my mom’s MS took a bad turn, putting her in a wheelchair for nearly a decade.
With thoughts of my mom I scold myself for not spending more time with her even though she insists we go on with our lives and let her more than capable live-in nurse tend to her daily care. She’ll be at the wedding, and we’re planning a family get-together before the boys return to their schools, but that doesn’t excuse the fact that I haven’t gone to visit her since returning from Vegas. That’s because you’re afraid to hear her opinion on Braden, a nagging voice whispers.
On the same stage where my brother first laid eyes on Evelyn mid-performance, a reasonably talented up-and-coming metal band rocks out, their sound brash and unapologetic. The band’s dark-haired singer is a total knock out, commanding attention and respect the way she shouts about having her heart broken and soul stolen in the sexiest voice I’ve ever heard. And from the way she can wear a pair of skin-tight leather pants with a plain black tank-top, ink covering both arms, strong cheekbones, thick lashes, haunting expression in her big brown eyes, she at least appears to have what it takes to “make it big” in the business. I make a mental note to have Charlie talk to Nolan about the band apparently called “Mad Haters” as written on the drummer’s set.
; Without having to touch me, Braden’s sudden presence surrounds me like a warm hug long before he yells over the heavy guitar riff, “You gotta feel sorry for the poor dude who pissed her off.”
I turn to him, unable to stop the bright smile pulling at my cheeks. Even squeezed in among other patrons closer to his age, his beautiful eyes and bright, cocky smile stand out like a shining star—brilliant yet ridiculously far from my reach. Why couldn’t I have fallen for a nice guy closer to my age? Surely they can’t all be balding and starting to thicken around the middle?
“Hey, you,” I offer.
“Hey.” Eyes dark, he takes his time checking out what I’m wearing as a slow smile builds on his lips. “That shirt something you designed?” If it weren’t so blatantly obvious he’s turned on the way he continuously swallows and his tongue darts out, every word drips with unmistakable lust.
Don’t let his swagger get to you. Don’t let his swagger get to you.
Without thinking I move in closer to him, ready to rub my crotch up and down his leg like he’s a scratching post smothered in catnip. “Uh, Shar sketched it out, and I…uh…threw it together.”
For a second I think he’s going to kiss me, but then his hands slip into his pants pockets and he leans back. Still wearing the sweater from the party that stretches nicely across his toned pecks, the sight of his beautiful body isn’t doing anything to calm my throbbing libido.
Throat suddenly bone dry, I snag the drink from Braden’s hands and take a long, burning pull. Oh, vodka. You make me do bad, regrettable things.
Braden clears his throat. “I’m sorry things went down the way they did with your boys. As much as I want their approval, I wish you would’ve had time to tell them in your own way so they would’ve had time to adjust without me having to physically restrain Allen. But I meant every last word I said to you tonight. I love you, and I’m not giving up on us unless you tell me it’s over.”
Heart thumping with the grace of a galloping baby giraffe, I shift my weight uncomfortably, glancing around to see if anyone’s listening in. Though I hate that we’re having this conversation in the middle of a packed bar, at least it forces us to act like civilized adults instead of stripping each other naked.
“I don’t expect you to lay your feelings out like I did, or make any promises,” he continues. “I’m just asking that you agree to take one day at a time with me and see where this thing leads. We can go as slow as you want.”
Pulling in a deep, steadying breath, I touch his chest with a tentative hand. “I want this.”
His thick eyelashes flutter as a crooked smile pulls at his lips. “Really?”
“But I need a little more time to decide what I want to do about it. At least give me through the weekend. There are so many factors to consider, Brae. Our families, the fact that you want to have children when I thought I was done, where we’d live. But if I agree to this, it would be on one condition that I will not bend on, no matter how many times you bat those pretty eyes or flash one of your dimpled smiles.”
“You think my eyes are ‘pretty’?” he sniggers.
“Braden, if you don’t agree to this one thing, then I’m walking away and we’re done, so stop smirking like a cocky asshole.”
Hiding his mouth behind a hand, he chuckles. “Okay, fine. Name it, beautiful.”
“You can’t move here.”
And just like that, his hand drops to reveal a dark scowl set on his handsome face. “How the fuck can you give this a fair shot if we live on opposite sides of the country?”
“Before I came here, I was thinking about the time I spent with you in Cali, and how easy it was to operate my part of the fashion line from a remote location. Maybe after this weekend I could plan to spend more time out there while you start school.”
Braden stares at me, slack-jawed with eyes as wide as saucers.
Wait, what did I just say? Where are these words coming from? This is not at all what I had planned to say! I can’t just up and leave my friends and family, can I?
Despite my hesitation, the verbal diarrhea continues its disastrous flow. “It’s only an idea at this point—I’m not saying it’s a for-sure thing. But we’d have to keep our relationship on the down-low until we decide what our future holds. That means we’d have to behave while you’re here. And I’m not saying I’d stay at your place, at least not right away. I mean not unless you want me to. I could totally rent a place near the beach—”
His lips steal the rest of my ill-planned words from my lips. A second later I’m in his arms and he’s lifting me off the floor while his warm tongue invades my mouth. Even though I’m still wondering what the hell I just volunteered, I kiss him back eagerly, my heart in sync with the wicked beats of the base drum. Just like that, all my worries disappear inside his arms.
If this feeling, reminiscent of experiencing all the Coney Island rides in one day, is how it’s always going to be when I’m with Braden, I don’t ever foresee myself asking for a refund. I do, however, know I’m going to be double-checking every few minutes that my seatbelt is properly fastened.
Chapter 13
KATIE
From the second my eyes pop open the morning of James and Sharlo’s wedding, I’m both giddy from the hot and heavy make-out sessions at Leona’s that went well into the early hours of morning, and puzzled by my last-minute willingness to accommodate Braden’s lifestyle. By the light of day I know it’s the right thing to do, even if I’m all at once choked with panic as I shuffle barefooted into the kitchen of my pathetically small apartment.
What excuse would I give Sharlo and Evelyn for up and leaving them? Who’d take care of my apartment while I was gone? Hadn’t I just promised myself that I’d visit Mom more often? How could I possibly stay away knowing it won’t be long until my sister-in-law gives birth to my first niece? And wouldn’t it kill me to go without hearing Franklin’s little coos and giggles almost every damn day? What about Sunday-Funday at Sophia and Nolan’s?
Connor’s chuckles behind me nearly give me heart failure. Stumbling into the kitchen in only a pair of sweatpants, he ruffles his couch-lain hair. “Someone’s ready to get the party started a little early.”
I freeze, drawing my eyes downward. I’m standing in my pajamas by the open fridge, holding a bottle of wine to my lips. Shit. When did I grab this? With a casual shrug, I set the bottle back inside the fridge and shut the door. “Just checking to see if it’s old…you know, in case it needs to be thrown out.”
From his deep laugh, I’m pretty sure he isn’t taking the bait. “Everything go alright with Braden last night? I figured I’d catch him stumbling out this morning.”
Me too, buddy. We toyed with the idea before parting ways, but in the end I decided it’d be easier to pretend there’s nothing going on between us at the wedding and reception if we stopped going at it like a couple of horny teenagers. Plus with him around, I can’t think clearly enough to reflect on my decision. But Braden’s kisses had me so worked-up that sleep wasn’t an option until I pulled my battery-operated boyfriend out from retirement.
“Everything’s great,” I answer, automatically opening the fridge door and retrieving the wine. I take a long swig, hoping to find courage at the bottom of the bottle for what I have to say next. Then I remember my impressionable son’s watching, and stick the bottle back in its place. I’m acting like a total lunatic. “After this weekend I’m considering spending time with him out in Cali.”
“Really? That’s awesome!” He grabs an apple from the counter and takes a big chomp that echoes in the small space. “You breaking the news to Uncle Charlie and Aunt Ev today?”
“No, and please don’t say anything to another living soul. It’s Shar’s special day and I don’t want it ruined by our family drama. If I decide to go with him, I know we’ll have to tell them eventually, but I don’t want to make a big deal out of it unless I know our relationship is headed down the right path.”
He holds one hand up. “Not my ne
ws to tell. But you should probably have a talk with Allen. He was texting me in the middle of the night, saying some shitty stuff about Braden. Looks like it’s going to take him a little longer to adjust.”
Grumbling to myself, I cross the worn linoleum to kiss him on the cheek. “Thanks for being so understanding, Con. You’ve grown up to be quite the respectable young man. One day you’re going to make some young woman very happy.”
“Young or old,” he taunts, grinning. “Now that I know you’re okay with big age differences, can you introduce me to some of your single friends?”
Smacking his strong bicep, I leave the kitchen mumbling, “Smartass.”
Though I’d like to think Evelyn was the most beautiful bride to ever grace a wedding, I’m speechless once Sharlo’s mother zips the pale champagne, satin sheath with Alençon lace detail onto her daughter’s slim frame. Colorful sunlight from the unusually warm January afternoon streams in through the Sunday school room’s stain-glass windows, highlighting Sharlo’s petite features with a luminescence that gives her the appearance of an honest-to-goodness angel. All she’s missing is a set of wings. Hair swept into a loose knot with a complex braid looping across one side of her head, makeup tasteful yet striking, six foot train swirling around her new Jimmy Choo’s, she’s unbelievably gorgeous.
James is going to shit.
“Oh, Shar!” Evelyn cries, slapping her hands over her mouth. She’s easily the most beautiful of all the bridesmaids in the matching dusty purple satin, curve-hugging column dresses that sits off our shoulders. With her big round belly and the added pinch of pink to her already glowing cheeks, it’s hard not to smile every time I look her way.
“No more crying!” I warn her with a wagging finger. “There isn’t time to touch up your makeup. Again.”
“You’re gorgeous,” Angelina says to Sharlo, the corners of her mouth lifting with a small smile. The oldest Kendall sibling seems to be fighting off sleep as she crosses her arms over her stomach, blinking in slow, heavy movements. Strong cheekbones, striking eyes, she’s so beautiful that I pray we can talk her into gracing the Milan runway in our Rocker Chique line one day. But she’s been acting strange ever since she flew in a few days ago, like she’s always drifting out of conversations. I don’t know her enough to make judgments, so I make a mental note to ask Evelyn about her later in private.
