Breaking Braydon (14 page)

I switched on the gas fireplace first. Next, I ran hot water while I searched for some soap and shampoo. I found lavender bubble bath and poured a big glob into the tub. Delicious.

While the water ran, I made a detailed check, opening all the drawers. It was well-stocked with shampoo, conditioner, razors, lotions, etc. But it didn’t have what I needed – a flat iron and contact lens solution. I also needed my base make-up. I had a little in the small purse I brought with me to the fundraising event, but it wouldn’t last for long. I’d have to use it sparingly. I couldn’t sleep with my contacts, and I had to give them a good wash and lubricate them before putting them back in tomorrow.

Should I just tell Braydon what I’ve been doing?
You’d have to tell him why.
No, he’d never understand. No one would.

After the bath was filled and frothed with excited bubbles, I lowered myself in. My aching feet and tired muscles rejoiced in the relaxing motion of the water that kept whooshing up and down my body. I closed my eyes and thought about my options.

Tomorrow, I wouldn’t look the same to Braydon. My hair would be different. I could explain that. I could just tell him I preferred it straight. No problem. My face wouldn’t be as pale. He might not even notice that. He might think the excitement of the snowfall had caused my face to flush or something. I was excited, so that wouldn’t be a hard-sell. My eye color would be the hardest to explain. I always wore my glasses, so maybe it might not be quite as noticeable. Before I started to wear my “dress down” disguise, people would stop and comment on my eyes – even strangers. It was the one feature that drew people to me. Men especially. I’d been told that enough times and by enough people throughout high school that I knew it to be a fact. That’s why I took the extra time and discomfort with the contacts and glasses.

My mom loved my eyes. She always joked that poetry should be written about them, that works of art—both paint and photography—would try to capture their beauty and color and fail. I missed my mom. She was my biggest cheerleader. I immediately felt her presence and the grief surrounding her loss.

If I could hide my eyes until I got back to my condo, I should be fine. I’d just have to get them wet somehow, saliva? That didn’t sound clean enough. Maybe Braydon had some distilled water. That should be work, I thought. If I got an eye infection, I would deal with it later. Keeping my secret was more important.

TWENTY-FIVE

Braydon

I was a little freaked out. There was a woman in my house. Not just any woman. Jain. I wanted her here; I really did. But now I didn’t know what to do with her. Was I ready for this? A relationship, a real relationship? I paced across my bedroom floor. I was safely tucked away in the master bedroom upstairs on the other end of the house. I wouldn’t be able to rush to her in a moment of weakness.

Jain needed to go slow. I needed to go slow. I’d never trusted a woman before, and it felt…it felt strange. I hadn’t completely let down my guard. How could I? I’d spent my entire adult life avoiding this very thing. From the moment I’d laid eyes on Jain, I knew my life wouldn’t be the same.

Could I trust her?
I hated that voice in my head. Always questioning, always doubting. She wasn’t like the beautiful woman I spent time with. It was true, what Todd mentioned. I did have an aversion to beautiful women. I was sure there was some deep, psychological reason, mainly Angela, but I thought it went deeper. The women I met after Angela seemed like carbon copies of her – vapid, vain, entirely wrapped up in themselves. I knew Jain was different. That was apparent from her passion for her work and plain appearance. I loved that she wasn’t flashy. She was ordinary, natural. I stopped. No, she wasn’t ordinary. Her lips and body were incomparable. I’d needed to kiss those lips, and I wasn’t disappointed. The way they felt, how she responded, was better than the restless nights dreaming of her. Her body was an unexpected surprise. She always kept herself covered up with oversized clothing and lab coats. When we were on the dance floor, and again after we fell in the snow, I was able to feel the outline of her body. She wasn’t rail thin, which was good. She had curves and muscle tone any man would appreciate. She must have a good exercise routine. I wondered why she kept herself covered up.

I needed to quit thinking so much. I didn’t want to ruin a possible relationship with Jain because of my paranoia. Logically, I knew all woman weren’t the same. Maybe I just wanted to believe they were so I could avoid letting my guard down and the possibility of getting hurt again. Angela’s evil laugh shot through my brain.
I thought she was perfect
. No! I was young, only fifteen when I knew Angela.

I took a cold shower, turned on the gas fireplace, and slipped in between the sheets and down comforter. I was warm and comfortable, but I wanted Jain.
Should I go to her?
I told her we’d take it slow, but my body was in complete disagreement. I thought about our kiss on the dance floor – those lips. I wanted—no, I needed to feel them again. I wanted to feel all of her. I tossed and turned. I knew I should to stay away, at least for tonight. I wanted to prove to Jain that she could trust me, trust my word.

We’d go slowly, and then I’d have her. All of her.

I woke up before dawn. I knew this because the light would always slip through the blinds, regardless of how tightly I’d shut them. It was dark, but a slight grayish tint came through the narrow slats. Maybe dawn was close. I pulled on the string to open them completely. The reason for the light wasn’t the sun rising. It was the moon reflecting off the snow. A foot of snow must have fallen throughout the night. It would be a gorgeous day, and I was excited to share it with Jain. I checked my clock. Four a.m. I needed to occupy myself before I woke her up. I wanted to get going right now, but she’d seemed so tired last night, I didn’t have the heart to wake her before at least…nine? Ten? I decided eight would be acceptable.

I trudged down to the lower level. I was excited to show Jain this part of the house. It held a state-of-the-art gym, a movie theater, and a bowling alley. If it became too cold to spend a lot of time outside, we’d have plenty to entertain ourselves inside.

I could waste at least two hours in the gym. After that, I’d cut wood for the fireplace – that would eat up another hour. The last hour, I could spend cooking her breakfast. I wasn’t a great cook, but I made eggs and bacon with the best of them.

It felt like ten hours before eight finally came. I accomplished everything I’d set out to do. Now, for the fun. I had a tray filled with coffee, eggs, bacon, and toast.

I walked quietly into her room. She was still asleep. The sheets and blankets were twisted and tossed to the floor. I chuckled to myself. She hadn’t slept well either. She’d taken off the sweats I’d given her sometime during the night, revealing her legs. Good God, her legs. They were without a doubt the most toned and beautifully shaped I’d ever seen. I wondered again why she choose to cover them up.

Her hair was also in a disheveled mess, covering her face. I’d never seen her hair anything but straight. But now, it curled at the ends. It appeared fuller, softer.

Something in my gut sent me warning signals. This wasn’t adding up. She turned and sighed. Her hair fell to one side, revealing her face. She wasn’t wearing her glasses, so it was the first time I was able to see her entire face. My stomach dropped. She looked so different. She didn’t look like my Jain. Maybe it was only because she was asleep? I’d never seen a sleeping woman before. I’d always asked them to leave immediately after I was done with them.

She opened her eyes slowly, and my world stopped.

What the hell?

I stood in the middle of the room, holding her tray. I grabbed tightly to the sides to make sure I didn’t drop it. I took a closer look. She wasn’t plain, not at all. She was beautiful. What was going on?

She tricked you
.

Shit. I trusted her.

She noticed my expression and grabbed for her glasses. “I can explain,” she said.

I stood there stupidly, staring at her. Thoughts were zipping through my brain, one right after the other.
She deceived you. She’s been hiding her identity. She’s not what she appears.
She lied. She can’t be trusted.

“There’s nothing you can say that will explain this. I want you to leave, right now.” I was shaking with anger.

She said defiantly, “If that’s what you want. Fine. I’ll leave.”

“Good.” I turned with her tray and left the room.

I walked back to the kitchen in a daze.
What just happened?
All these questions peppered my brain, and I didn’t have the answers. I probably should have listened to her explanation, but it wouldn’t matter. She was a liar. She’d hidden the truth from me. How long had she worn a disguise? Was it just for me? Was this just another ploy by a beautiful woman to trap me? I almost fell for it.

A few minutes later, I heard the front door slam and boots clomp over the porch and down the front stairs leading to the entrance gate. I didn’t care that she took one of the spare pair of boots I had on the mud porch. She could keep them. Good riddance. She must have called a cab because she sat out on the fence, waiting. Good. I never wanted to see her again. I rubbed my chest, where a dull, aching pain threatened to take over.

TWENTY-SIX

Jain

Do not cry. Do not cry
, I commanded myself. He didn’t even give me a chance to explain. But, if he had, what would I have told him. The truth? No, I couldn’t do that. I’d never told a soul about it, not even Colin.

This was bound to happen. Braydon would never change. He’d always want another conquest. It was just the way he was. It was a good thing we hadn’t slept together. It would have made this so much harder.
It’s already hard
. I brushed the tears from my face. I didn’t want him to know he’d upset me. I wanted to leave with my head held high. He didn’t deserve an explanation.

The nightmare continued as I sat freezing on his gate. I was stuck. Every cab company I called wouldn’t even attempt the roads. The sanding trucks were even stuck with the many downed trees in the area. Seattle was the worst place in the world to get caught in a snowstorm, because no one knew what to do. I was freezing again. This made twice in a twelve hour period. At least I’d snagged an extra pair of boots from the porch. I felt a little bad about that, but I’d mail them back after I got the heck out of here. Who else could I call? I knew Colin couldn’t get me. His car wasn’t made for snow. I wondered briefly if Braydon had an SUV in his garage, which was actually an eight-car carriage house. Should I go ask Henry? He seemed nice, but he worked for Braydon.

I felt so sad, which was in complete contrast to my surroundings. I took a peek back at the log house that sat on a slight hill like a majestic castle. Inside, it was cozy with all the warm rugs and fireplaces. The outside was imposing with its expansive decks, turrets, and carriage house. The snow, which sat about a foot deep, made the home appear surreal, almost like an artist’s drawing. I swept my eyes from left to right, taking in the landscape. It was breathtaking, beautiful. Snow-covered trees, acres of untouched land, and a stream to the north side of the property completed the picture. Everything about this place was serene, the complete opposite of how I was feeling.

I’d been sitting on Braydon’s gate for two hours before he approached me. I was tired, cold, and emotionally drained. I didn’t want to talk. I turned my back and tried to ignore him.

“I know you don’t want to talk to me, but Henry insists I take you inside until we can find a ride back to town. I guess the city is pretty much shut down after the storm.” His voice was flat, emotionless.

I didn’t answer at first. After a few minutes, I said, “You’re right. I don’t want to talk to you.” I kept my back to him.

He cleared his throat. “I don’t want to talk to you either. You can stay in the guest quarters, and I’ll keep to my room. We should be able to share the house without running into each other.”

“How polite of you,” I answered.

“Don’t act like this is my fault. You were the one who lied. You and your…disguise created this situation. Tell me why? Why did you do it?” His voice was angry.

I was angrier. “Now you ask me? After I’ve sat out here for two hours?” I was shouting. I didn’t care. “You don’t deserve an answer. You wouldn’t want to hear it anyway.” That was the truth.

“Why? Because you planned all along to trick me? You got caught, and now you’re upset?” he roared.

“What? You think this is all about you? You conceited ass! This isn’t about you. It’s about me, what I wanted for
my
life. This has nothing to do with you.” My loud voice echoed off the trees. “You want to know? Do you want the truth? Not everything is about you!” I continued to yell.

He became still, staring at me like I’d gone crazy. I was in a sense. I was tired of the secret. I was tired of pretending I was someone who I wasn’t.

“First, I don’t trust men. It seems that was a good decision, because look what happened when I trusted you. I’ve had one boyfriend in my life. I was seventeen, and he used me. I’ve had sex one time, and it was awful! It took three minutes, and after he was done, he was already planning his next conquest.” I knew I was dumping, but I didn’t care, so I continued.

“I don’t need a man or anyone else taking me away from my research. I have to stay focused. I owe that to my mom.” I began to cry. Not the soft, gentle sobs of a refined woman. These were gut-wrenching sobs with a flood of tears and snot running out of my nose. Lovely. I used the bottom edge of his Seahawks t-shirt to mop up some of the mess. I was a wreck, and I wasn’t stopping.

“You want to learn a little more about me? You know my mom? The one I loved so much? I let her die a horrible death, and I did nothing to prevent it. Now you know the truth, you know what kind of despicable person I am. So congratulations. You found me out.” I was back to yelling, and, unfortunately, the snot and tears continued to run down my face. I must have made a picture of a crazed woman.