Ask Me Why(35)

The fact Braelyn doesn’t take my shit turns me on in a big fucking way. Her sassy words send a spike of arousal straight to my dick. But if I’m honest, almost everything this woman does gets me going.

I point to the seat she just vacated. “Sit down.”

She crosses her arms, one of those cheap flip-flops tapping the floor. “I don’t take orders from you.”

Add temper tantrums to that rapidly growing list. I’m sporting a semi under my desk. I grind my molars. “Please.”

Braelyn parks her ass on the very edge, not bothering to get comfortable. “Satisfied?”

“How old are you?”

A dent marks her forehead. “Twenty-five. Why?”

I twirl a pen around my fingers. “Just wondering why you’re already putting a will together. That’s very… responsible.”

She lifts a hand to her chest. “Holy shit. Was that a compliment?”

“Don’t read too much into it. What made you decide to do this now?”

“Why do you care? I thought you don’t handle this sort of thing.”

I concentrate on her stoic expression. “I typically don’t, but we aren’t in the habit of turning away business. I can get the ball rolling if you’re willing to cooperate.”

“Because I’m the one being difficult,” she retorts.

“We’ll agree to disagree for the sake of keeping things moving ahead. Tell me why you’re concerned about handling this in the immediate future.”

Braelyn glances out the window. “Life can end before you’re ready. I’d like to be prepared.”

“That’s morbid.” A thorny vine loops around my ankle and cinches tight. I jerk my knee and kick off the eerie sensation.

She picks at a thread on her shirt, still avoiding my eyes. “So is reality.”

“Sounds like you have experience on the matter.”

She blinks and looks away. “You might say that.”

The sound of inevitable doom clangs in my ears. I steer this sinking ship into calmer waters. “We’ll discuss this further over dinner.”

Braelyn’s gaze snaps to mine. “What?”

“I haven’t eaten. You could always use two or three extra portions. Mary was already planning to stay late and get Ollie in bed.” I’m already shoving all the loose paperwork into a haphazard stack.

“That’s not necessary. I just want to set up a will.”

“Which is a complex process. We can start tonight.” I stare at her, my stony expression practically begging for an argument.

Braelyn collapses into her chair. “Fine. Whatever.”

I stand and step out from behind my desk. “I was mostly done when you showed up. Let’s hit the road. Have you been to Pour Spout?”

“Never heard of it.”

“We’ll go there. Good food, better atmosphere. We’ll be able to talk without shouting.

“Super,” she mutters.

“I’ll drive. You can ride with me.”

Her head whips back and forth so fast she transforms into a colorful blur. She visibly gulps. “U-uh, n-no. That’s okay. I-I want to take my car.”

I furrow my brow, an array of dots scatter in front of me without connecting. “Are you okay?”

Braelyn’s chomping on her bottom lip but otherwise appears frozen. “Y-yeah. I have issues being a passenger. It’s a long story. I need to be in control of the vehicle.”

If I look close enough, there’s perspiration dotting her brow. She’s haunted by something. I can almost see ghosts swirling in her eyes. Her sheer terror is probably connected to the accident she mentioned before. She has a similar air of panic surrounding her.

I edge toward the door. “All right, forget I offered. Drive yourself.”

“Thank you,” she whispers.

This meek version of her awakens a piece of me that I’m uncomfortable giving a voice to. I’d like to dissolve that weakness in a tub of acid. Since that’s not readily accessible, I lash out the easy way.

“Before you get any ideas, this isn’t a date. It’s a means to an end.” I clutch my keys, their teeth digging in with a sharp bite.

Braelyn seems to snap out of the trance, her gaze clearing. She grabs her purse and shuffles over to me. “Wow, way to sell me on it. I can probably find a different lawyer who’ll make this ordeal less painful.”

I hitch a thumb over my shoulder into the dark corridor. “By all means, go get one. You’ll still owe me the truth behind your extreme reactions.”

She huffs but doesn’t dispute what we both know is true. We make quite the fucked-up pair. I decide to let her off the hook, for now. Braelyn gasps when I switch off the lights and we’re blanketed in darkness. A dry chuckle escapes me.

I yank open the door and guide her into the hallway. “Stick by me, and you won’t get lost.”





Braelyn



Tale



I follow Brance along the winding road and attempt to get my breathing under control. My palms keep slipping off the wheel, ensuring I remain hovering over the edge of a nuclear meltdown. Something sharp shifts inside of me. My heart is still pounding at an unhealthy rate. Why couldn’t I let him drive me? It’s such a simple, mundane thing. But to me it’s often the crux of a panic attack. Just thinking about it makes me twitchy, which is the last thing I need at the moment.