Braydon(82)

When he put his hand down and looked into her eyes, she saw the pain reflected there. This was a physical pain that she wasn’t used to seeing on his handsome face.

“Are you okay?” she asked, concerned.

“Headache,” he said softly. “Won’t go away.”

“Yet you want to take me to dinner?” she asked.

“We’ve got to eat, right?”

“Sure. But I happen to know how to cook.”

His eyes widened faintly as though he had no idea that was one of her specialties.

“Come in,” she encouraged him, stepping back out of the way so he could.

“Jess, it’s okay. Let’s go eat. I don’t want you to have to take care of me.”

“Shut it,” she remarked, gripping his wrist and pulling him toward the couch. “Sit. I’ll see what I’ve got.”

It didn’t take much to get him to drop down onto the cushion. With his eyes still studying her, Jessie smiled back at him. “I want to cook for you. How’s that?”

“It sounds like a total lie, but who am I to argue with a pretty lady?”

“Exactly.”

Jessie kicked off her shoes and made her way to the kitchen. She grabbed a bottle of ibuprofen and poured Braydon a glass of water before returning to his side. His head was leaning back on the couch cushion and his eyes were closed.

“Take these,” she whispered, not wanting to cause him any more pain.

He peeked open one eye and glanced at the bottle in her hand. Without an argument, he reached up and retrieved it from her and then took the water. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Take those, close your eyes, and I’ll wake you when dinner’s ready.”

Braydon smiled, but Jessie noticed it was forced. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him like this. Despite the fact that he was in pain, she actually liked the idea of taking care of him. At least for a little while. She didn’t usually have anyone but herself to take care of. Although these days, that was generally enough for her.

Twenty minutes later, Jessie dished up the stir-fry she’d thrown together. It was simple and light, consisting of an array of vegetables she’d picked up at the store along with some leftover chicken she had made last night when she got home, but hadn’t eaten. She knew that when she had a headache, eating was the last thing she worried about, but Braydon was probably starving, which meant he needed to eat.

She plated the food and then carried Braydon’s into the living room first. He was sound asleep on the couch, his neck in an awkward position, but she didn’t wake him. Instead, she returned to the kitchen and got her own food before going back to join him.

When she took a seat beside him, his eyes opened and he turned his head to face her. This time when he smiled, it didn’t look quite so forced.

“Surprising what a short nap can do for you, huh?” she asked.

“I think it’s the company,” he replied, sitting up straight and glancing at the table where she had placed his food. “This smells great.”

“You act like it’s a wonder I know how to cook,” she teased, keeping her voice low.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a woman cook for me. I mean just for me. At least not a woman who wasn’t my mother or my sister-in-law.”

Jessie liked the idea of being the only woman to have ever cooked for him.

They sat in silence for a few minutes while they both dug in. After the first bite, she realized just how hungry she really was. And this was nice. After last night, after what she had witnessed between Braydon and Brendon—namely Brendon’s breakdown—Jessie hadn’t been sure she would ever get an opportunity like this again. Insecurely, she’d thought that Braydon would take Brendon’s side and she’d be tossed to the curb.

She really needed to work on that. Her insecurity was an issue, she knew. Not that she was going to mention that to Braydon.

“How was work?” he asked when he’d cleaned his plate.

“Interesting,” she said simply. “Want more?”

“If there is more,” he answered. “I can get it though.”

Jessie put her plate down on the coffee table and took his before he could stand. “You sit. I’ll get it.”

She returned a minute later with his plate once again full. She had dished up what was left, grateful that she’d thought about his healthy appetite when she first started. She’d purposely tripled her normal ingredients, making sure she made enough for him.

He ate slower this time, and they chatted briefly about what had happened throughout the day, neither of them bringing up Brendon or how he was doing, although Jessie desperately wanted to ask. She was worried about him. Just about as much as she was worried about Braydon. It wasn’t just the headache that seemed to be bothering him, but she was a little scared to inquire as to what else it might be. She couldn’t seem to get the question out, because she was fearful that he would tell her something she didn’t want to hear. Like how they needed to move this back to just friends.

Yep, those insecurities were getting the best of her these days.

“Anytime you want to bypass the restaurants, I’m more than willing to come over here,” he told her. “That was fantastic.”

“Thank you,” she said. “It wasn’t all that hard.”