A Forever Kind of Guy: The Braddock Brotherhood, Book 2 (29 page)

“Ha. Better than okay. Before I dropped her off last night Jas asked when was I going to marry Callie and can she be in the wedding.”

Ray drained the rest of his coffee and followed Roscoe to the job site. Roscoe had done everything right with Callie. To begin with, he’d asked her out on a date. A real date, not dinner at his house with children present. Yes, there’d been some bumps in the road for the two of them, but it looked as if they were going to make it work. Ray couldn’t help being a little bit envious of Roscoe.

As darkness fell, they were still on a job. Ray was bone tired and wondering why he’d ever chosen anything to do with carpentry or construction as a profession. He’d been out of sorts all day, and he knew Roscoe had noticed. Ray had about had it with Roscoe’s good-natured suggestions as to what had caused his mood.

“We’re almost done here. How about I buy you a beer when we’re finished?”

Ray knew that was Roscoe’s way of having more of a chance to probe. For all that Roscoe was one of his best friends, he didn’t want to discuss Hayley with him. He didn’t want to hear Roscoe’s platitudes or advice. He wanted to go home and go to bed and get some sleep.

“I’ll take a raincheck, okay? I’m beat.”

Roscoe wisely didn’t pursue it. Instead he changed the subject entirely. “Anyway, now that I know Jasmine’s okay with it, I’m going to ask Callie to marry me.”

“What!” Ray wobbled on the ladder before he regained his balance. He stared at Roscoe. “You barely know her.”

“Oh, I know her,” Roscoe assured him with a self-satisfied grin. “I know she’s the one.”

“You have got to be kidding me. You’re going to propose after what? A couple of months? You’ve been single practically your whole life. How can you be sure?”

Roscoe shrugged as he adjusted another length of crown molding, lining it up with the last one. “Hand me a shim.” Ray complied, and Roscoe did some more adjusting before using his nail gun to secure his end.

“I can’t exactly tell you how. I only know I am.”

“And Callie? You think she’ll say yes? You think she’s sure too?”

Roscoe’s eyes twinkled. “Yep.”

“But what if—”

“Can’t live your life on ‘what ifs’,” Roscoe informed him. “Take your brother and Kaylee, for example. They hardly knew each other, what…six months, before they were walking down the aisle. Rick knew Brenda since junior high and look how that worked out. Don’t be thinking knowing somebody is a substitute for
knowing
somebody. When you
know,
you just know.”

“Roscoe Washington, Master Philosopher,” Ray muttered under his breath.

“Yeah, well, no man ever got what he wanted by sittin’ on his ass. You want something, you better go for it before the opportunity passes you by.”

“You got a ring and everything?” In spite of himself, Ray was curious. Was Roscoe
that
sure?

“Got one picked out. Put a deposit on it.”

“What if she hates it? What if it’s not what she wants?”

Roscoe glanced his way and gave him a disbelieving look. “She ain’t gonna hate it. What got into you? You ain’t usually such a downer. Why you rainin’ on my parade today?”

“Sorry. I’m happy for you. It’s great.”

“That’s better.”

On the drive home, he couldn’t stop thinking about Roscoe and Callie, but the more he thought about it, the more he began to wonder if Roscoe didn’t have something with his
when you know you know
philosophy. It was true. Rick and his first wife had known each other since junior high. Maybe even before that. They’d dated all through high school and got married shortly afterward. And
that
hadn’t worked out.

Heck, his own parents had had a whirlwind romance and they were still together all these years later.

Maybe rushing into something when you knew it was the right thing wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

As exhausted as he was, when he parked in front of the duplex and saw the lights out on Hayley’s side, he couldn’t stop the wave of disappointment that washed through him.

He felt as if he’d done everything wrong. Everything was backwards. He was in love with her, and they’d never even been on a date. They’d had mind-blowing sex, but no definitive relationship. There was a whole lot going on between them, but Ray was beginning to wonder if it was only in his head. Had he imagined it all or was there something real and genuine there? Had he built this idea of a future with Hayley, one that included Fletcher, as easily as he’d built the swingset out back? Suddenly he was assailed by doubt because it occurred to him that he had no idea how Hayley felt about anything. About him. About their future. If she even thought they had one.

What if he’d rushed her after all, and she was ready to run the other way?

He unlocked the door and let Oscar out. The puppy did his business and ran in crazy circles around the yard, stopping to sniff here and there and occasionally charging back to Ray for his approval.

Ray watched the dog, thinking what a mess he’d made with his approach to Hayley.

He’d known Caroline casually for a couple of years, and they’d dated for two before he’d proposed. Of course, he reminded himself, that was no guarantee of anything. When it got right down to it, how well did you ever know anyone?

Hayley thought she’d known her ex-husband too, and he did a number on her.

Ray yawned and whistled to Oscar, who came running, tongue lolling, eyes bright in the dim light of the porch. Ray rubbed him behind the ears. “You’re a good dog, you know that? Don’t let anyone tell you different.”

He fed Oscar, ignored his own growling stomach and fell into bed.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The next night, Ray made a point of getting home early. He took a shower and waited for Hayley to arrive. He’d thought all day about what he could do that she would like, how to approach her now. He was afraid she’d back away after the other night. Maybe he’d scared her off.

He stopped at Publix on the way home and bought some chicken and shrimp, bread, stuff for a salad and a bottle of the cheap white zinfandel Hayley appeared to prefer. He hadn’t figured out if she drank it because it was all she could afford or if she’d still be drinking it when she won the lottery.

He paused at the store’s floral display, debating he wisdom of showing up with flowers, being that he’d never done it before. Would it be strange if he did it now after they’d spent one night together? He didn’t know and decided not to take the chance.

He went with what he knew. Hayley hated to cook, and she wasn’t very good at it. And she liked cheap white zin. That ought to speak volumes to her about how he felt. More than a dozen red roses for sure.

By the time he got home, he’d decided he should have gone with roses, but it was too late to make a return trip to the store.

He didn’t like not knowing where he stood with Hayley. They needed to get some stuff settled between them. Sooner rather than later or he was going to go nuts.

He opened the door to let Oscar out the minute Hayley’s car pulled to a stop. She got out and let Fletcher out of the back. Oscar’s tail wagged in delight when Fletcher bent down to pet him.

“How you doing, Fletch?” he asked the boy. Ray put a hand on Fletcher’s head. The stitched area appeared to be healing nicely. Fletcher gazed up at him for a minute before taking off after Oscar.

Ray turned his attention to Hayley, reminding himself to be cool. To breathe. Yeah. Right. She looked delectable in a soft, pink, short-sleeved hoodie and matching shorts. Robust. Healthy. Fit. Her hair falling out of the clip like it always was. Her eyes bright.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her and said the first thing that popped into his head. “Your ex-husband is an idiot.”

Hayley laughed in delight. “Yes. I believe we’ve established that.”

He had to touch her. He cupped her face, which was becoming his favorite thing to do because that way he could touch her skin and her hair at the same time. He kissed her. She kissed back. So far so good.

She opened her eyes and smiled at him. “Wow. That’s nice to come home to.”

“I’m going to make you dinner.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“You are?”

“And I bought you some wine.”

“You did? Hey, I could go for a guy like you.”

He gazed over the top of her head for minute before looking into her eyes once more. “I should have brought you flowers…”

“What for?”

“I was going to.”

“You were?” Hayley bit her lip.

Ray had no idea why he was confessing. “But I thought, I don’t know, like it would be a weird thing to do. I never brought you flowers before.”

“But you have made dinner for me. And you know I like that. So you went with what you knew.”

“Yeah. But I can still get you some flowers.”

“Oh, Ray. Unless they’re edible, don’t bother.”

“I was thinking maybe roses.”

Fletcher came back to them with Oscar, his face flushed from exertion. Oscar was panting like mad from his run around the yard in the heat.

“Let’s go in,” she said to Fletcher. To Ray she said, “Give me about an hour, okay?”

Dinner was over, though Hayley could still taste the succulent shrimp and tender chicken on her tongue. Ray knew his way around a barbeque grill.

She hadn’t quite known what to expect when she saw him again. Not after the way he’d left the other morning. But they were on an even keel again. Sort of.

Hayley wasn’t dumb. Ray had been giving her searching looks off and on all evening, as if he were looking for a sign or signal from her. But she didn’t know what sign or signal to send. She was feeling her way along in new territory. She was in no position to give him any guidance.

He got Fletcher in the bathtub, and she could hear them, or rather she could hear Ray making exploding noises along with lots of splashing, so she assumed Fletcher’s boats were engaged in some kind of war.

Fletcher streaked across the room in his underwear, his skin rosy. Ray tagged along, holding a pair of pajamas. “Tell Hayley goodnight and let’s go read a story.”

Fletcher slammed into Hayley’s legs and wrapped his arms around them. He tilted his head back as far as it would go to look up at her. He smiled at her, and her heart almost stopped. Even through his ordeal night before last he hadn’t said a word. He’d barely whimpered, though his face and body language showed his distress.

But now the corners of his lips turned up slightly as he stared up at her. Hayley pushed damp hair back from his forehead. She bent and kissed him and rubbed his back. “Night, Fletch.” Then she whispered in his ear. “I love you.” He gave her another squeeze and let go, back to Ray.

Before long Ray reappeared. “Out like a light,” he informed her as he crossed the room and came up behind her. She’d poured a glass of the wine he’d brought and pushed the cork back into the bottle.

He slid his arms around her and said the four words she least wanted to hear. “We need to talk.”

What she wanted to say was
Do we have to do this now?

It had been a darn near perfect evening. Why couldn’t it stay that way?

“And yes, I’m aware you’d rather not.” His lips brushed her earlobe and she shivered. “You want to go outside? Do you need your cigarette?” His voice was a low, sexy growl and another shiver ran up her spine.

She shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I don’t have any.”

Ray lifted his head. “Quitting?” He caught her eye in the reflection of the darkened window.

“It’s unhealthy and it’s a stupid habit.”

“Oh. I thought maybe you didn’t think you deserved it or something.”

“I deserve more.” There was unmistakable defiance in her tone.

She wouldn’t get any argument from him. He turned her around. “How about me?”

“You deserve more too.” She told him solemnly.

He laughed. “No. I meant how about me. I think you deserve me.”

“I’ve
had
you, Ray. Or have you already forgotten night before last?”

“Uh no. I most certainly have not forgotten. But I think you deserve more.”

“All right. Now you’re talking.” Hayley grabbed his hand and started in the direction of the bedroom, but he pulled her back.

“That’s not what I meant.”

So much for her plan to distract him from the
we need to talk
conversation. She’d learned that technique from Trey. Whenever she opened with a
we need to talk
line, he’d distract her with sex. Ray wasn’t quite so easily distracted.

“I must be losing my touch,” she teased.

“Not hardly.” He handed her the glass of wine and led her to the sofa.

She set the wine on the table and watched him warily. He sat at an angle, slightly forward, hands clasped. Butterflies set up a whole new pattern in her stomach. She picked up her wine, took a sip and waited.

“Is this real?” he finally asked.

“Is what real?”

“You and me.” He gestured around the room, indicating the entire duplex. He cleared his throat. “The other night.” His gaze pinned hers.

She didn’t know what he was asking. “I don’t know what you mean. It happened. We’re here. It’s real.”

“But what I don’t know is how you feel.”

“About what?”

“About me. About us. About anything.”

Baffled, Hayley took another nervous sip of wine. No one ever, not Trey, not her mother certainly, no one in her life had ever asked her how she felt. She’d fallen in love with Trey, and she’d told him so. He never had to ask. He knew. Her mother never wanted to know anything. And if Hayley tried to tell her, at an early age, before she learned there was no point, her mother shut her down. She didn’t want to hear it. Her grandmother and her aunt, while they’d taken care of her, watched over her when her mother hadn’t been able to, they’d had their own lives, jobs, other concerns. Hayley got whatever they had left over to give her, but there hadn’t been a lot of heart-to-heart talks with anyone.

Now here was Ray, asking.
How do you feel? What do you feel?
Wanting to know. This was important to him, and she supposed, given what she knew about his wife, she could understand why. He needed to know where he stood. Caroline had taught him never to assume anything.