Rough Edges (5 page)

She turned her attention to the frozen bag on her foot, barely seeing it through the emotions clouding her sight. Once she climbed down from the dining room table, Allie brought a shaky hand to her mouth.
I wanted more than that and you know it,
she thought, reciting his words in her head.

In a daze, she gripped the sock and shoe Braden had removed, clenched onto the frozen bag of chocolate chips, and hobbled down the narrow hallway that led to the shop. The door swung open, and the shoe slipped from her hand. The chocolate chips did too, landing on the floor with a thud. Inwardly, while bending down to pick up her things, Allie chanted the words
do not look over at Braden
in her head. As if she could stop herself. It was like her eyes had minds of their own, stubbornly darting to the precise place he stood.

Braden met her gaze, stared at her with a puzzled expression, and then turned his attention back to his work. With a slight grunt, Allie hunched down further to secure the items, cursing under her breath when her hair slid off her back and over her face. Why – in this moment – she had to lose all sense of grace was beyond her, but one thing was sure: She would not look over at Braden again. Maybe ever.

Once seated at the desk, Allie dropped her shoe to the floor, tugged on her sock, and set the bag over her toes once more. She sighed as his words came back to her.
Don’t pretend you didn’t know; I made it clear.
And heaven knew he had. Oh, had he ever. She thought back on the moment they’d shared back at Tom Landerson’s party during senior year. A moment so heated she hadn’t forgotten it after all this time. Without further invitation, her mind revisited that evening.

Terrance had wronged her that night. Made out with Sara Thompson in the closet for seven whole minutes while everyone chanted and cheered. Everyone but her. Repulsed by the grunts and groans sounding from the small space, Allie had stormed off down the hall, determined to leave the party if it meant walking home in the dark by herself. Of course, Terrance later denied doing anything with Sara, not that she believed him. Whatever went on between them was a secret Terrance planned to keep. But there was a reason Allie had been more forgiving than she should have been; she had a secret of her own.

Allie pictured the narrow hallway at Tom’s place, the dim light coming from one of the rooms. The strange crack along the old wall as she passed. And the strong hand that had reached for her – Braden’s. He’d spared no time for words. Only warmed her with a look so severe she had no doubt what he’d come for. In seconds he’d pulled her into a dark room, pressed her into an even darker corner, and linked his hand through hers. They stood like that, his fingers caressing hers until he brought her hand to his lips.

He kissed the center of her palm. “Terrance doesn’t deserve you,” he whispered against her skin. His statement warmed and thrilled her all at once. The words swam in her head as Braden explored the outline of her lips with his thumb. His fingers found the curve of her cheek, and then trailed down the side of her neck, his gentle touch setting her ablaze inch-by-inch. Just as she began to wonder if he would really take the risk – if he’d dare press his mouth to hers – Braden licked his lips, the sight barely visible as her eyes adjusted to the dark. He moved in slowly, gauging her response. Warming her up to the idea.

Her pulse hammered to the point it hurt. She’d always known Braden was taller than Terrance, and broader too, but having him so near accentuated those points. As he stepped impossibly closer, Allie lowered her chin, too shy to meet his gaze any longer. The soft touch of his heated breath tickled her forehead. Close. He was so close. Touching her. Caressing her so tenderly her legs threatened to give out. The sensation increased as Braden pressed a kiss just above her brow, making her sigh in return. His lips traveled slowly over her cheek, where he pressed  another lingering kiss.

If anticipation alone could kill a person, Allie might have died in that moment. She lifted her chin a fraction at a time. 

His lips grazed hers like a whisper. Once, twice. And then his kiss was hers. With the full and complete lock of their lips, Braden let out a groan, the masculine sound of it thrilling every sense she had. His kisses were strong and certain, but not forceful. His every move hinging on her approval. When she kissed him back willingly, actively, he reached for the curve of her waist, gripping her there as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Persistent. Patient. Masterful. Allie had practiced the piano in her youth, the trusty metronome ticking a constant track to keep the rhythm. Braden’s affections were consistent too. Paced to perfection – pressing one moment, tasting the next, and seducing her with every hypnotic beat.

She’d never been kissed in such a way. Not before. And not since. Allie wasn’t sure how long it had lasted. Whether it was seven minutes like Terrance’s fling, or if it had lasted even longer. Made no difference, really. It was enough to ruin her from any other man. Even Terrance. And the guilt that flooded in at the knowledge had consumed her for months. Maybe even years. It was the very reason she’d started setting Braden up with other girls. She
had
done that – done it to prove to herself that she could stay loyal to Terrance. That she wasn’t a horrible cheat who would dump her boyfriend because somebody better had swept her off her feet. Besides, Terrance needed her; reminded her over and over of how lost he’d be without her. Braden was different. He never needed anyone, or so it seemed, and something about that fact frightened her.

With a bit of effort, Allie pushed those thoughts aside and mused on the kiss once again. It’d been years since she’d allowed herself to think of it. She’d kept the encounter far from reach during her married years. But today it had resurfaced with a vengeance, and she couldn’t keep herself from enjoying it.

Over the hours that followed she relived that kiss again and again, the vision playing out as she scanned order forms, pulling each one onto Braden’s laptop in digital format. By the end of her shift, Allie took a minute to assess the work she’d accomplished. A good section of the documents had been stored on the hard drive, as well as backed up through an online source. She was glad to see it, considering how distracted she’d been.

Braden had worked quietly today. No power tools roaring into action. No hammer pounding from the other side of the wall. A few times she’d wondered if he hadn’t snuck out completely. But then she’d detect a tiny clank here, the soft rustle of sanding there, or a long, weary sigh that made her want to comfort him somehow.

After rounding up her things, Allie rested her workbag on the chair and then stood in place while another minute ticked on. She’d replaced her shoe, and was now contemplating her options with the chocolate chips. She could leave the bag on the desk and let him take care of them himself. Go put them back in his freezer, which she did not want to do. Or rip open the bag and devour the entire contents on the ride home.

Reese’s words rang in her mind.
Just ask him to lunch. Man’s gotta eat.

If Allie asked him about the chocolate chips, she could possibly work the lunch thing into the conversation. But did she really have it in her to do that? The truth was, she’d spent the last few hours mentally making out with Braden. And now she was filled with a conflicting blend of embarrassment and desire. Part of her wanted to grab hold of him and reenact the kiss right there in the woodshop, an environment that accented every masculine trait he owned. The other part of her was itching to run out the door while hollering goodbye over the dividing wall.

She exhaled slowly, tuning into the live, tingling force that settled over her skin. She let it encourage her. She could do this; she could.

With her shoulders raised high, Allie walked toward the workshop, one determined step after the next. Great streams of sunlight burst through the glass overhead, casting a heavenly glow on the beautiful creature in the center of the room. She paused to look at him, watching as he labored at the workbench, sanding a massive board that extended beyond the table at both ends. The cupboard door he’d been working on earlier rested against the hutch just a few feet away. She took a moment to admire that too, impressed that he could create such beauty.

When she sensed she’d been staring for too long, Allie forced herself to speak. “It’s um, twelve o’clock,” she said, slowly approaching him. “What should I do with these?” She held up the bag.

“Just set ‘em on that table there,” he said without looking up.

After placing the bag of chocolate chips where he’d suggested, Allie snatched up a small piece of sandpaper, the label
80 grit
printed on back. She curled the corner around one finger while watching him. The muscles in his broad arms bulged as he worked over the wood. A bead of sweat trickled from his temple, drawing her eye to his thick, dark hair. She leaned in for a closer look, noticing that a fine spray of sawdust peppered his hair, like tiny flakes of snow.

Just as a smile formed on her lips in response, Braden turned to face her. The grin fell from Allie’s lips as he held her gaze, causing her to recall their earlier exchange in his kitchen, when he said that he’d missed her.

“It’s twelve already?” His voice was low, husky, and as rugged as the
80 grit
in her hand. She nodded while her eyes traveled over his hair once more, lingering on the tiny specks.

“What?” Braden asked. He looked innocent then. Not angry or brooding. The simple curiosity in his face making him appear almost boyish.

The smile came back to her lips, and Allie dared herself to step closer. The heat from his solid figure warmed her as she neared, inhaling the scent she’d come to expect on Braden – fresh cut wood mingled with spicy hints of aftershave. “You’ve got stuff in your hair.”

He didn’t reply. Only remained still, his flawlessly sculpted face motionless as well.

There she went, wanting to run again. To bolt out of there before he could affect her any further. But she stepped closer instead. While exhaling a shaky breath, Allie propped herself onto her tiptoes, rested one hand on Braden’s solid shoulder for balance, and brought the other to his hair. She slipped her fingers through the thick, loose waves, gliding along the heated surface of his scalp before tossing the strands from side to side. Tiny grains of sawdust trickled down, fluttering gently over the back of her hand. Powdery soft and light.

“There,” she whispered.

Braden’s eyes remained narrow. His piercing gaze seeming to question her. At last he cracked the slightest grin, gripping hold of her wrist. “You want some of that?” With movements too quick to dodge, he wrapped one arm around her, pulling her until she was trapped against his side. He stretched one arm behind him, shifting a bit.

“What are you – ” Her words were lost as Braden lifted his fisted hand high over her head. She glanced up in time to see his fingers loosen, unleashing a handful of sawdust he’d gathered from the table.

Allie ducked her head in response, squinting her eyes shut as tiny trickles of sawdust landed over her hair. Giggling, she tried to squirm from his grasp, but didn’t stand a chance. His strong embrace made her weak in more ways than one. At last she stopped fighting long enough for him to relax his grasp on her. Allie shook her head as she opened her eyes, wondering just how much sawdust had landed in her hair.

Braden tilted his head, an even broader smile pulling at the corners of his lips.  Allie grinned in return. “How is it?” she asked. “Is this a good look for me?”

The smile fell from Braden’s face as he nodded and gulped. “Yes.” It came out in a whisper, the single word coated in tenderness. At once his arm dropped from around her waist. 

“Well now you have to help me get it out,” she said. “Like I helped you.” She’d barely gotten the words out, as affected as she was.

Braden lifted his arms, making a sign of surrender. “With these big hands?”

She nodded this time. “Yes.” And with that, Allie closed her eyes, pulled in a deep breath, and waited.

Anticipation sprouted within her, the warmth of it familiar and welcome. Would he rise to the occasion? Take part in the playful banter?

She felt the warmth of him first. A rise in temperature along the side of her face. His closeness was evident in the shadow she detected through her closed lids as well, the shift from light to dark. Allie smiled as she felt the tips of his fingers at last, soft against her hairline. His delicate touch thrilled her, caused her to blush as he moved his hands further back over her scalp. Goosebumps spread over her skin. She felt the heat of his breath next, at a ticklish spot along her hairline, and realized Braden was blowing the sawdust from her hair.

She shrunk her neck into her shoulders and stifled a squeal. “That tickles.” The warmth of his breath fell over her skin in a slow and taunting trip, his mouth moving from her forehead, over to her cheek.

She held still. Entranced. Listening to the sound of her own shaky breath. The thunderous beating of her heart. It was that night all over again. Every sensation crashing into her like a high and reckless tide. As she tuned into the bliss, feeling as if she might lose her balance, Allie brought her hands to his shoulders to steady herself.

The act triggered something in Braden – it must have, because all at once he pulled away. The movement caused her arms to fall, and Allie dropped her chin as well.

Why had he stopped? And why had it affected her so entirely? She kept her eyes pasted on his dusty cowboy boots as he stepped further away, dragging a pile of sawdust beneath the sole of his boot.

“I better get back to work,” he said.

At last she lifted her gaze, just enough to catch the tormented-looking frown on Braden’s face.

Allie’s insides hadn’t caught up with her whirling mind. They were stuck back in the alluring encounter, stirring with anticipation. Had she not been fantasizing about that kiss all morning she might have acted like a normal person. As it was, she’d mistaken the playful encounter for something more, and the realization humiliated her.