“He’s still not happy, but I think we’ll be fine at work.”
“Really?” A sinking feeling settles in my gut. Maybe Rose was right; Zane hung around, hoping for more, and I was purposely blind to it.
“He’ll be okay, Deanna. I didn’t come to talk about him.”
“Wait, does this mean things are staying the same with us?” I ask as I realize he said things should be good with his work and the continuation of our...whatever we are hinged on that.
“Yeah. Give me your key. I’m picking up Otis on my way home, then you’re coming to my house for dinner. Dessert will be served first.” He grins. “And then, I have a surprise.”
“What kind of surprise?”
“A good one.”
I laugh and grab his hand to lead him to my office. “No hints?”
“No. That taints the point of a surprise.”
I pull him into my office and lock the door behind us. Hearing that distinctive click makes Brayden stop his once-over of my office to glance down at me with a frown.
“What are you up to, darlin’?”
“Are you in a rush to be somewhere?” I ask, though I don’t think he is. I walk around him to clear some space on my desk.
“What’s your point, Deanna?”
He knows my point; that’s why there’s a seriousness in his tone. I try to reassure him. “The door is locked and unless it’s an emergency, no one will bother us.”
“Why do you insist on making me have sex with you where you work?”
I laugh. “I don’t make you.”
“Deanna,” he warns just as I turn to him and unbutton my jeans.
I’m extremely disappointed when there’s a knock on my door. “What?” I call out.
“I’m sorry, but there’s a woman out here and she insists on talking to you personally.”
Damn it. Brayden grins, which only causes me to glare at him as I fix my jeans. “Okay,” I call out to her. To him, I say, “You suck.”
“Me? Why? I didn’t do anything.”
“For the grin.” I walk past him, suddenly in a sour mood for my quickie being completely ruined.
Brayden sticks his hand into my back pocket to haul me back to him and against his chest. “I’ve never seen you pout before,” he comments. I’m not pouting, even though my arms find themselves folding over my chest at his words. “Look at me.” I glance up, over my shoulder. He leans down and captures my mouth. My body immediately turns toward him, wanting more. I always want more from Brayden. My greedy hands grab at his neck to hold onto him and pull myself a little closer. He kisses me so deeply and passionately; he kisses me as if he’s saying goodbye to me. For a brief moment, I worry before kissing him back just as hard, stealing his breath as my own, but then he pulls away with one final soft kiss.
My eyes refuse to open. This is why I had to say goodbye to Zane. The energy buzzes through my veins, my heart throbs in my chest, and my lips feel as if they’ve been wondrously seared by the fire burning healthily between us. I don’t know that I could do without this. It lifts me up far higher than cloud nine.
Brayden’s chuckle causes me to open my eyes. “Ready?”
“Yeah.”
“Wait, I need your key.”
Right. I find my purse and then my set of keys. We walk out of my office while I am in the process of removing my house key from the ring. As we come around to the storefront, we see a young woman rushing over to a toddler as he was about to follow a woman out of the store. She carries the little boy over to an elderly lady who just started to turn this way and that, as if in search of him.
“He was trying to escape,” the young woman tells her.
“Oh, thank you.” She takes the boy and holds him close, checking him over as if he could’ve been injured on his short walk on his apparent escape.
“Who wants to see me?” I ask Stina, the employee who knocked on my door. Brayden is apparently sticking around for a moment longer because he takes my key, but also sticks a hand in my back pocket as he stands next to me.
She points to the young woman who rescued the little boy, and who is now walking over to me. She looks a little disheveled, frazzled, as if her day has not gone as planned and it’s showing through her appearance. She holds out her hand, which I shake. “Hello, my name is Raelynn Woods. I’m sorry if I bothered you while you were busy,” her gaze keeps flicking to Brayden, “but I wanted to make sure I talked to the person in charge.” The woman reaches into her purse and hands over a résumé. “I don’t know if you have any positions open, but I’m in desperate need of a job, so if one opens up, I’d appreciate it if you’d keep me in mind.”
“I will,” I promise. “I don’t have anything right now.”
Her shoulders droop as she nods.
“Are you open to any kind of job?” Brayden asks her, causing us both to look at him with surprised eyes. What is he doing?
“Yes,” Raelynn quickly answers.
“What about as a nanny?”
“I can do that,” she rushes to say. “I have references, experience, and I’m CPR-certified.”
“Stay here for a second.”
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“EJ,” is all he says as he steps away with his phone in hand. Raelynn and I watch him, though we can’t hear as he makes sure to talk quietly enough that we can’t. When he returns, he says, “Here’s the deal. I have a friend who is a single parent and he needs a nanny to help with his little girl, Bree. She’s almost nine months old. He can explain everything to you during the interview, which he’d like to do as soon as you can make it to his house because he’s in between interviews right now. Deanna, where’s a pen and paper?” I walk around the counter to find him what he needs while he continues, “Can you go now?”
“To this man’s house?” she asks and I hear the hesitation in her voice.
“He’s a good guy,” I tell her. “I can go with you if you’re uncomfortable going alone; that’s totally understandable.”
Meanwhile, Brayden writes down EJ’s phone number and address. Raelynn gives another wary glance to him, mostly his injured face.
“Can you read that?” He holds out the piece of paper with his handwriting and she nods. “Are you going? He doesn’t have all day.” I reach across the counter and slap his arm. “What?” he asks.
“Don’t pressure her. She doesn’t know us and you’re trying to send her to a man’s house and she doesn’t know him either. And you got beat up at work, so you look a little sketchy.”
He frowns. “I’m not pressuring her.” He glances at her. “I look sketchy?”
“Intimidating,” she corrects him.
He smiles at me when she says that. “That’s a better answer.” He looks at Raelynn again. “We’re all good people, but Deanna can go with you if you want. Here.” He pulls his phone back out and after a moment, he turns it toward her. “That’s his daughter. How dangerous does she look?”
“EJ is pretty cute too,” I add, which earns me a glare from Brayden.
“Watch your mouth, darlin’.”
I grin. “He’s smokin’ hot, Raelynn, and he’s sweet with his daughter. Anyway, would you like me to ride out there with you?”
“You don’t mind?”
“Not at all.”
“His mom is probably there too,” Brayden tells her in another effort to reassure her.
Once I make sure the shop will be covered, we all walk outside. Brayden kisses me on the forehead with a grin, muttering something about payback, and reminding me to come straight to his house once I get off work. Then, I enter the address he wrote down into my phone’s GPS because I’ve never been to EJ’s house. I’m parked in the back of the lot and it turns out, Raelynn isn’t parked too far away from me.
I get Raelynn to EJ’s, introduce them, and once I make sure she’s comfortable, I leave. All I want to do is cut out early and see Brayden, but I can’t. I’m the only one who teaches the classes, and there’s one toni
ght. Maybe seeing only one guy again won’t be so hard. Brayden could make it worth my while in more ways than one; the truth of that hums in my veins. I should call Mom and give her the happy news that just maybe I’m finally settling down. At the very least, I’m returning to monogamous relationships.
The phone is in my hand and her contact is pulled up when the reality of her death hits me all over again. Calling Mom is no longer possible.
“Excuse me, can you help me?”
I glance up at the customer, happy to be needed for the moment.
By the time I make it to Brayden’s, I want to get Otis and go home. While work kept me busy, my thoughts lingered on my mom. I should check on my dad at some point, too. Not today, though. I knock on Brayden’s door, hearing Otis happily barking on the other side. Brayden’s smile slides off his face when he sees me.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Where’s his stuff?” I ask as I step inside and pet Otis. His happy-to-see-me face cheers me up slightly.
“You’re leaving?”
“Yeah? Can your surprise be postponed?”
“Not really.” He grabs my hand and pulls me against him. Otis wiggles between our legs in an attempt to separate us. “What’s wrong, Deanna?” My eyes betray me by watering and he guesses, “Your mom?” I nod. “Then why don’t you stay and let’s see my surprise. Don’t you want a distraction instead of going home to be alone?”
I don’t know which I’d prefer.
“You can be alone tomorrow,” he adds.
“Okay, fine. Better be a good surprise.”
He releases me so I can walk Otis before we leave. I worry about leaving him in Brayden’s house because he may get bored and destroy something. Let’s face it: Brayden’s things are nicer than mine, and I am not in the position to replace anything that Otis may ruin.
“Are you sure you want to leave him here?” I ask. “He’ll likely tear something up.”
Brayden nods and grabs a bag I hadn’t noticed from the end table. “I’ve closed all the doors, so he’s limited on where he can go. Plus, here’s a bunch of toys for him to play with. I’m leaving the TV on for him too.”
Hm. I hadn’t thought of doing that. I wonder if it’ll actually curb his boredom to have sounds constantly on. Doubtful, but one can hope.
Brayden dumps the bag of toys, Otis gets to work, and we leave for an unknown destination. I stare unseeing out the window. What would Mom think of Brayden anyway? With the way he looks right now, she’d think he was a hoodlum. She may like the fact that he has money. He’s a pro athlete, so I’m assuming he makes a very good living. His house and his vehicles are examples of this. We never talked about guys, so I honestly don’t know what she would say. Was she hoping for grandchildren?
The thought makes me shudder. Definitely not ready for that any time soon, though a trickle of guilt burns my heart for not giving her any at this point in my life. I could only imagine what she’d say if I did have a kid. She didn’t think I was competent enough to run my grandma’s shop; I highly doubt she’d think I could raise a kid. Hell, I’m not certain at this point I could do it. Bad decisions are still a good friend, if not my best friend.
Then again, Mom may be proud that I snagged a pro athlete. She might even try to push me to start seriously dating him and get him as a boyfriend. She may just think this was the smartest thing I’ve ever done. Somehow, I doubt that. I’ve successfully kept the quilt shop up and running with only one major mistake, and she could never acknowledge the success, only the mistake. There’s no way she would be proud that I found a good man with or without a career like Brayden’s.
“Deanna, we’re here.”
I shift my gaze out the windshield to see a house. Not just any house in the bright moonlight. A house that looks like it’s about to fall over and die. He wants me to walk inside that thing? Hope not. It might collapse on us! Okay, maybe I’m overreacting, but the house is most definitely, without a doubt, in rough shape. “What the hell is this?” I ask.
“Come on.” Brayden gets out of the car without answering me. I hurry to follow along, grabbing the hand he holds out for me to take. He turns on the flashlight on his phone. “Careful of the first two steps,” he says as we reach the porch. That’s because they are broken.
“What kind of hell is this? Are you murdering me here? Is the house going to murder me?”
Brayden laughs. “This is my next project.”
“What?” I’m too busy carefully stepping over the broken steps and worrying when the third one groans from our weight to remember his hobby.
“I buy houses, fix them up, and sell them, remember?”
“In this state?” I didn’t realize he bought houses that were so bad off. “Shouldn’t this house be demolished? How is it not condemned?” But as we step inside, I see that the inside isn’t as bad as the outside looks. “How is this supposed to cheer me up? The house is depressing.” Then, I think of something else. “You’re not planning on having sex with me here, are you? I mean, I’m crazy, but I ain’t that crazy.”
Brayden laughs more heartily now. “No. This is part one of the surprise and the sex will come later. Let me show you around.”
He not only shows me around, but sweeps me up into his vision for what he wants to do for this place. He clearly knows what he’s talking about. I don’t know when he had time to buy a house or to think about all the things he wants to do, but I like this side of him.
“When are you starting?” I ask.
“No time soon. You and hockey take up all my free time so far.”
Just like that, my instinct to be single and keep people away kicks in. “Don’t let me stop you from fixing this place.”
“You aren’t.”
“But you just said—”
“Stop it, Deanna,” he orders, tugging me out of the house. He doesn’t say anything else until we’re in the car. The words drop like a bomb and still the air. “You’re still not my girlfriend, so relax.”
I don’t relax. I’m frozen like the air in the car. Am I happy about what he said? Comforted by it? Relieved? Do I wish for something else? Would I want to see if Brayden could make me a priority in his life, right there next to hockey? Would Mom scold me because I’m thinking I should be next to hockey and not above it? Asking to be above it seems like asking for failure. If Brayden has never been able to accomplish the balance before, I doubt I would be the one that would rise above hockey.
“Here.” Brayden hands me his cell phone. He gives me his password, tells me to find his photo gallery, and directs me to an album. “Look at the photos.”
It’s of another house in similar condition to the one we just left. By the time I finish, we’ve arrived at a house with a sold sign in the front yard. We once again get out of the car and go inside. This house is much nicer. Empty, but nice. The wood floors are some of the prettiest I’ve ever seen. The kitchen is magnificent. It’s the kind of kitchen that makes you want to cook in it and have many family conversations around the island or at the bar.
“Why are we here?” I ask, continuing to be swayed by the beauty of the empty house.
“This is the house from the photos.”
“What? No way.”
Brayden nods with a satisfied smile. I look at the house in an entirely new light, trying to see the rooms as they were in the photos.
“You did it all yourself?”
“Most of it,” he replies.
“Wow. I’m impressed. I have complete confidence that you can fix the depressing house now.”
I can hear his smirk as I examine the master bath. “You doubted me?”
“A little,” I admit.
“The house sold today, so I wanted you to see it before I couldn’t come back anymore.”
“Thanks. I’m glad you showed me.” I really am. I’m totally impressed by this man. From his singing to his ability to fix a house, and I’ve yet to actually see him in his true element.
“Come on.�
�� His arm goes around my waist, but his hand dips to rest on my ass. “Let’s go home so I can feed you and finally fuck you.”
That might just be the best thing he’s said today.
“I hired her.”
I glance over at EJ. “The girl from yesterday?” I’ve already forgotten her name.
“Raelynn, yeah. I went with my gut, so I think she’ll work out even with Jackson.”
I frown in confusion. “Who’s Jackson?”
“Her five-year-old son. She’s a single mom.” He’s stretching on the ice and I wonder why he waited until now, right before a game, to tell me this news.
“Wait a second. She and her son now live with you?”
“Yes, Mom. I trust my gut and my gut says she’s the one. Plus, Bree actually liked her. Bree hasn’t liked any of the other potential nannies. That’s a sign.”
“I hope it works out for you.”
No more talking happens during warmups. Not by me, at least. Soon, I’m standing on the ice and some chick belts out the national anthem. We’re playing the Portland Vikings tonight. For the briefest of moments, I think about Deanna and wish I had time to ask her how things went. She planned to stop by her father’s after work today, but I didn’t get the chance to text her and check in. I mentally berate myself for thinking of her right now. The puck is about to drop and I’m thinking about a woman?
What the hell?
Somehow, I manage to snag the puck and send it backward toward Sergey Orlovsky. Game on. My head is stuffed with the occasional distracting thought of Deanna. There’s a frustration within me from the very beginning that is unhelpful on all accounts. I turnover the puck, which lands on the stick of Hudson King. He battles his way down the ice and scores on Liam Irving.
Down one-zero.
The game continues to fall apart. Passes don’t make it to their intended target. Penalties are taken too often, though I must say I don’t find myself in the penalty box once. The usual chemistry between the Kessy twins is missing completely. People are out of position far too many times than what’s good for us.
Attached to You (Carolina Rebels Book 6) Page 9
