Braydon(95)

As Braydon continued to make a rut in her carpet, Jessie didn’t move. She wasn’t even sure what to do. Braydon didn’t seem to be paying her any attention, and she held her breath. This was the part that she always expected. The moment when he figured out that she was too high-maintenance in the emotional department. When he realized that her insecurities were such an overwhelming part of her that he decided he couldn’t deal with it. She knew what was coming. This was the part when he either let her down easy or called her a crazy bitch and went about his merry way.

“Jess?”

She was surprised by the sound of his voice, and her eyes tracked him as he made another pass across the room. Rather than respond, she just looked at him.

“I’m not like most guys you’ve dated.”

That statement had anger ripping through her insides.

Mostly because she knew he was right. He wasn’t like the guys she’d dated. He was different in so many ways, yet she was still insecure enough that she would do anything to screw it up.

“I’m not getting into this with you,” she snapped. Okay, even she knew she sounded irrational, but she didn’t want him to get all high and mighty and point out all her flaws. She was quite aware of them all, so any schooling was unnecessary. “Thanks but no thanks,” she said bitterly.

“Jess.” Braydon moved closer, his voice soft, almost reassuring. Jessie didn’t move. She couldn’t. “You’re gonna have to trust me if this is gonna work.”

Trust.

Right.

What the hell did she know about trust?

Instead of saying anything, Jessie turned and fled to her bedroom. She heard Braydon’s boots on the hardwood in the living room as she opened the front door. Her heart lurched when Braydon continued to move past her, not even attempting to try to talk to her anymore.

God, she was acting like such a f*cking girl. A brat, to be exact. And now he was calling her bluff.

“Good night, Jess,” Braydon said softly as he stepped out onto the porch. When he turned to face her, Jessie noticed the sadness in his gaze. “If you ever decide you want to talk, give me a call. But until you actually trust me . . . until you can finally let me in . . . I mean really in, then I don’t see how this is gonna work.”

Neither of them knew how this could possibly work. If it could work. And it was clear that after a few days in one another’s company, Jessie had allowed herself to be overtaken by fear and insecurity.

Unless, of course, they were naked.

And Jessie knew that being naked wasn’t always an option.

No matter how much she wanted to pretend otherwise.

Without another word, Jessie nodded her head and then shut the front door as gently as she could manage. She stared at the wood for a long time, even after she heard the roar of Braydon’s engine as he left.

Her valiant attempt to remain strong, to pretend that her entire life hadn’t just crumbled at her feet thanks to her own stupid reaction, didn’t last long. Just like earlier, the tears began to fall. And instead of admonishing herself for being overly sensitive, she let them. She gave in to all the emotional turmoil as she broke down and cried. Cried for the loss of a man who she would love until the day that she died.



JESSIE HAD JUST changed into her pajamas when her cell phone rang. Her heart kicked into overdrive as she snatched it off the table, hope flaring in her chest.

But that hope died on impact when she realized it wasn’t Braydon.

It was her father.

Not that she didn’t want to talk to her dad; she did.

“Hey, Daddy,” she greeted him solemnly as she slid into the oversized chair in the living room.

“Baby girl,” he greeted her back. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” she said, hoping it didn’t sound like the lie that it was.

“When did you start lying to your father?” he asked, a tiny bit of humor in his voice.

“I’m fine. Really. Just tired.”

“Do you always cry when you’re tired?” he asked.

“How do you know that I’ve been crying?”

“I didn’t know until you just confirmed it. What’s going on, baby girl?”

“Nothing, Dad. Nothing that you need to worry about. I’m just . . . emotional.”

Either her father was content with her answer or he really didn’t know how to respond to that. Whatever it was, he changed the subject. “How are things with you?”

“Good,” she said, thinking about work. “Kylie has taken on a huge new project here in town and she’s working through the logistics of getting it finished in the next few months. We’re gonna be busy.”

“That’s good to hear. Still liking your job?”

God, she didn’t know how to answer that. Just a short while ago she’d been packing her things, fully intending to leave town and never look back. Granted, there was one major flaw in her plan. Her car was DOA and she hadn’t heard from Kylie to find out whether Gage could actually fix it or not.

Instead of sharing all of that with her father, she said, “Of course. What’s not to like? I spend most of my day alone in an office with the only thing to keep me company being the sound of the phone every now and again. I’m catching up on some serious reading, that’s for sure.”