The First Time Again: The Braddock Brotherhood, Book 3 (25 page)

“Back to the house?” Baylee asked incredulously. He was two years older and almost a head taller, but she doubted he’d be able to carry her very far. A quick vision of him dropping her and injuring her further flashed through her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Let’s see.” He wrapped his arms around her thighs, hoisted her up and staggered a few feet. “You’re right. You’re too heavy.” He lowered her until she was back on one foot. He brought her arm over his shoulder. “Walk on that foot. I’ll carry half of you.”

In this manner, they made their way back to the house. The double sets of grandparents fussed over Baylee while Trey told the story of her fall. Trey’s grandmother made up an icepack for her ankle, settled them on the swing and handed them each a Popsicle.

“If you tell me you remember that, I’ll know you’re lying,” she concluded with a grin.

He lifted a hand in resignation and let it fall. “I don’t. Not specifically. It was what? Twenty years ago?”

“I know I didn’t make much of an impression on you, but that’s one of my favorite childhood memories.”

“That’s not much of a history, Baylee.”

“There’s more.”

“Crap.”

“High school.”

Trey stared at her. “Wait a minute. The first time I saw you, when you showed up to work, I told you I thought you looked familiar. I was sure I remembered you from somewhere.”

“It might have been your grandmother’s funeral.”

“You were at Grandma J’s funeral?’

“Yes. Look, my grandmother was her friend. I had memories of her from childhood. My mother had known her as well. I wanted to pay my respects.”

“That was kind of you.”

“What I’m trying to say is I knew you in high school. You were two years ahead of me and didn’t know I was alive.”

“How can you expect me to—”

She poked him with her toe again. “Don’t interrupt. Do you remember your senior year? Jimmy Macklehorn had a big party at his place?”

“Maybe. Parts of it anyway.”

“You were drunk.”

“Which explains why I don’t remember much.”

“I remember.”

“Baylee—”

Ignoring him as if he hadn’t spoken, she went on. “I was there with Jenny and her cousin. I never drank, but I had a few beers. A bunch of us gathered around the bonfire. You came up and put your arm around my shoulder.”

Trey made a sound in the back of his throat, but he didn’t interrupt. Baylee’s voice softened as she lost herself in the memory. “It was the most delicious feeling in the world. Your arm around my shoulder. I’d had a crush on you since I don’t know when, and you picked me out of the crowd. I was in heaven.”

Trey set the swing in motion and the chain squeaked and moaned.

“We went up to the hayloft. I’d been drinking too, but I was beyond excited. You kissed me, got me half out of my clothes—”

Trey brought the swing to a halt. “You’re sure as hell not going to tell me I stole your virginity that night.”

“I’m sure you would have if you could have, but we both know you didn’t. You passed out.”

“Lucky for you.” Trey gazed out into the darkness.

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?”

He turned back to her, his eyes glinting in the dim light from the kitchen. She scooted closer to him. “I know you don’t remember our history, but I remember it. I was disappointed that night in the hayloft. I think, in some weird way, I’ve been trying to find my way back to you all this time. Now that I have, I’m afraid—”

“I’ll disappoint you again? I’ll let you down?”

Baylee nodded. “I’m afraid to let this, us, be more than it is.”

“Maybe we should end it right now.”

Baylee couldn’t help the sound of distress she made, but she caught herself. “If it’s what you want.”

“It isn’t. But I don’t want my past mistakes thrown in my face every time I turn around. I don’t want you waiting for me to screw things up, either.”

“Maybe it won’t be you. Maybe I’ll screw it up.”

“Maybe. I can’t predict the future, Baylee. I can’t change the past. Neither can you. We can take this a day at a time and see where it goes. If you don’t want to do that, we’re done.”

“I don’t want to be done.” She looped her arms around his neck and kissed him. She smiled. “I’m not done with you.”

“The Fourth of July?”

“I’ll be there. With bells on.”

Chapter Eighteen

“I guess you’ve got plans for the Fourth, huh?” Matty had met Jasmine’s aunt Micheline, her cousin Cecily and the twin babies. Jasmine wasn’t helping her cousin every day, but she was there often. He knew when she wasn’t that she hung out with her girlfriends. Maybe she had a boyfriend.

“I don’t know for sure. Maybe we’ll go to the lake and watch the fireworks. Seems kind of lame, though, you know?”

“Yeah,” Matty agreed, although he hadn’t been to the fireworks at the lake since Diana’s death. Holidays were hardly noted in the Westring house anymore. Jonah and Josh often spent a good part of the summer and Christmas break with their paternal grandparents in Charlotte.

“What are you doing?”

This was it. Now or never. No guts, no glory. “The guy Trey I do work for sometimes? He invited me to this big party at his parents’ house. He said I could bring a friend.”

There. The invitation was out there. Matty held his breath, his heart pounding in his throat.

“That sounds like more fun than going to the lake. I’ll ask my mom if it’s okay and let you know.”

“Okay. We, um, might need a ride, though. I don’t have a car, and it’s out in the country near Edna Falls.”

“Maybe I can drive. I’ll ask.”

The Fourth of July was a hot, hazy summer day. The sun in the cloudless sky bore down on the residents of Henderson County, so that by late afternoon all anyone wanted was relief from the heat. Trey had left early to help his parents set up for the party. He assured Baylee his mother would have plenty of help with the food. Baylee suspected Trey’s father would have plenty of assistance from other sources as well, but Trey was trying his hardest to get back in Andy Christopher’s good graces.

By the time she arrived, a good-size crowd was already assembled. The driveway was packed with vehicles, so Baylee parked behind several other cars along the side of the country road. Guests spilled out of the house onto the porch. Several picnic tables had been set end to end. Beneath a party canopy were more tables set up buffet style and laden with food. Round metal bins held ice and cold drinks.

Some distance away, smoke rose from a long, cylindrical barbecue grill of the sort Baylee had seen at the county fair. Clusters of men were gathered nearby. Sections of the sprawling lawn had been set aside for horseshoes, croquet and volleyball. There were people everywhere, and Baylee wondered how she’d find Trey in the crowd. She wove her way across the grass, looking for him. She greeted several acquaintances before she spotted him in conversation with another couple, who were accompanied by a little boy.

Trey saw her approach and turned to include her. “Baylee, this is Hayley and Ray Braddock and their son, Fletcher. Baylee Westring.” She smiled and shook hands with them, wondering how Trey could so casually introduce his ex-wife and her husband.

“Hayley and Ray are here looking for a vacation home.”

“And as soon as Lynn learned we’d be in the area, she insisted we join the party. Fletcher loves fireworks, don’t you, Fletch?” Hayley gazed down at her son, smoothing his hair back from his forehead. He nodded enthusiastically and grinned up at her.

Hayley Braddock was gorgeous. She had the sort of effortless beauty Baylee had always envied. Although her sun-streaked hair was surely the result of an expensive salon visit, it looked completely natural. She had curves in all the right places, and she was in the best physical shape a woman could be in. Plus, she exuded warmth and genuineness.

Her husband and little boy were both dark-haired, handsome fellows who obviously adored Hayley and were happy to be in orbit around her.

Hayley wore a blue-and-white striped sundress and strappy sandals. Baylee envied her perfectly manicured nails as well as her pedicure. A significant diamond ring sparkled on the third finger of her left hand, accompanied by a wedding band encrusted with smaller diamonds.

Trey linked the fingers of his hand through Baylee’s, making it obvious they were a couple. Baylee stared down at her own outfit, wishing she’d worn something entirely different. The denim skirt and red, white and blue polka-dot T-shirt had seemed fun and perfect for the occasion when she’d put them on along with a pair of flip flops. But next to the stunning Hayley, she felt ridiculous and gauche. Although she’d painted her toenails, that’s all she’d done. There was never a reason for a professional manicure, either. Not in her current line of work. As for her hair, she hadn’t had it professionally styled in months.

She’d left it down today because she knew Trey preferred it that way. A narrow band kept it out of her face, but the uneven, curly waves were no match for Hayley’s highlighted blond perfection.

“Hey, Uncle Kurt’s here.” Trey turned to greet a handsome, fiftyish man. He and Trey gave each other a man hug, clapping each other on the back. Kurt greeted Hayley enthusiastically. She introduced him to her husband and son. Trey introduced him to Baylee before Kurt said, “I’d like you to meet a friend of mine. Scott Givens.”

Baylee had seen Scott walking half a step behind Kurt before they’d joined the group. She offered him a weak smile now, her enthusiasm for the day dwindling by the second.

While the others chatted, Baylee merely smiled and nodded or murmured agreement when it was necessary. She was embarrassed to the tips of her toes to be standing here with her ex-husband and the man he was obviously involved with. The man he’d left her for.

Kurt was the Asheville art gallery owner Scott had mentioned. Baylee hadn’t wanted details. She hadn’t spoken to Scott in months. To be faced with him now, so shortly after meeting Trey’s beautiful ex-wife, seemed grossly unfair. Trey had wanted her here with him, but all she wanted to do was flee.

She untangled her fingers from Trey’s. “I’m going to go get something to drink.” She forced a smile and made brief eye contact with everyone but Scott. “Excuse me.”

She stopped near the buffet area and swiped an icy-cold soda from one of the coolers. She had no idea where to go. Where to hide. Behind the Christophers’ house was a modern-looking metal structure. Since it seemed to be deserted, Baylee headed toward it. The building was open on one side, and she ducked into the shade provided by the roof. A fishing boat, lawnmower, a small tractor and other items were stored on one half, leaving enough parking space for two vehicles on the other.

Half of the upper level appeared to be a loft.
Perfect.

She climbed the metal rungs of a built-in ladder to discover a wide-open space at the top. At the opposite end of the loft was a rectangular opening big enough to load bales of hay through. Andy Christopher didn’t raise cattle or horses as far as Baylee knew, so he probably had no need of the access. There were a few bales of hay stacked haphazardly near the opening, though.

Baylee took a seat on one and popped the top on her soda. She took a sip of the cold liquid, glad to be away from the crowd. She gazed out the opening at the apple orchard beyond and the mountains in the distance. From here she could hear the musicians, but that was all. The party seemed very far away.

What had ever possessed her to think that whatever this was she and Trey had going could turn into something real? After seeing his ex-wife, she understood Trey was most likely passing time with her until someone better came along. Someone more his type.

Isn’t that what she’d wanted anyway? She’d never wanted Trey to take her seriously. She wanted to have fun with him. Have sex with him. She hadn’t wanted a relationship. She didn’t even want to stay here in Hendersonville. She was dying to leave, right? She was saving her money with that intent. Unless she got a job offer soon, she planned to move to Orlando and start fresh in a place where no one knew her, no one would talk about her, no one would pity her. Even if the voices she imagined she heard were her own, the internal monitor that judged her, changing environments might quiet it. She’d have something new and different to focus on.

Maybe a change of scenery was the answer and maybe it wasn’t. She tried to imagine what she might miss if she left Hendersonville. Certainly not her self-involved family. Not her lumpy daybed mattress or the drudgery of the jobs she’d been doing the past year. She’d miss Jenny, of course. But mostly, if she were honest with herself, the person she’d miss most was Trey.

Stupid,
she warned herself. If she left, he’d move on so fast her head would spin. He’d find a willing, available woman. There were lots of them in Hendersonville or farther afield in Asheville. She’d miss his house, organizing his office. His bed.

She took another sip of soda. She straightened her spine and squared her shoulders. She needed to get back to the party, even if it was the last thing she wanted to do. There was no reason she couldn’t paste a smile on her face. She’d promised Trey.