Chapter 13

Brayden

Sleeping on my mother’s couch for the last week and a half wasn’t doing my back any favors. I was used to the support of my king-sized bed at home, which I enjoyed alone, and was able to sprawl across like an actual king. Here, on my mother’s floral printed couch straight out of a movie set from the seventies, I couldn’t even stretch my legs out without having to rest my ankles on the armrest. I was too damn tall and the thing was too damn narrow for me to do anything but lie on my side.

I rubbed the base of my neck and my lower back while I stood under the hot water of the shower. It was early still—too early for Bella or my mother to be out of bed yet. If I wanted any time to myself in this place, I had to be an early riser. I was used to early mornings because of work, so it was easy to get myself going in the mornings.

It was not easy, however, to shower in a stall a quarter of the size of what I was used to. As I grumbled about how cramped it was, someone knocked on the bathroom door.

“Bella and I are making some pancakes,” my mother called through the door. “Will you be quick?”

I felt like a teenager again. “Yeah. Ten minutes, tops.”

“Okay, take your time! Do you still like yours with chocolate chips?”

I pinched my nose and let the scalding water bounce off my shoulders. “No thanks.” I waited a couple seconds, and when she didn’t reply, I concluded that I was once again alone.

For now.

I savored the last couple minutes of my shower and my solitude. Then, when I was good and ready, I came out of the bathroom ready to face yet another day in Valdez.

Bella and my mother were just lifting the pancakes from the pan to the plates. My mother handed Bella everything, and she brought it to the table, stretching to the very tips of her toes to reach. I smiled to myself as I spotted a happy face in one of the pancakes. My mother used to make those for me when I was Bella’s age.

We sat down, and my mother placed a mug of black coffee in front of me. We began eating, and I looked over as my mother picked at her pancakes tentatively, breaking apart the fluffy edges with her fork and flattening them into her maple syrup.

She barely ate anything at all.

I opened my mouth to ask if she wanted something else, but she talked over me. “You know,” she said, squaring her shoulders and sitting up a bit straighter. “I think you should head out for the day, Brayden. Give me and Bella a chance to get to know each other, just us girls.”

I arched an eyebrow at her as I chewed and swallowed. “And where do you propose I go while you do this?”

My mother shrugged and proceeded to push her uneaten breakfast around on her plate. “Wherever you like. The Tavern. Emmett’s diner. The art gallery.” She shot me a devious look out of the corner of her eye, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“I know what you’re playing at.”

“Playing at? Whatever do you mean?”

I popped another piece of pancake in my mouth and chuckled. “All right. You don’t have to tell me twice. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I’m done cleaning up.”

I half expected her to tell me that she would handle the dishes, but she didn’t. She was tired. I could see it in the fine lines around her eyes, the slowness of her movements, and in the way she looked at me—like she was etching every part of me into her mind. It was almost like she was afraid I was going to leave as things got harder.

My own mother barely knew who I was anymore.

That was nobody’s fault but my own. I had left for too long without looking back.

When Bella finished eating, I collected all of our plates and filled the sink with hot soapy water. I brushed my mother’s uneaten food into the garbage can before setting to work at scrubbing. Bella chatted with my mother. I listened to her talk about her preschool and her friends and her teacher, and I wondered if she wanted to go home yet.

When I was done, I kissed them both goodbye and bundled up for the cold. The truck took a while to heat up, but soon enough, I was on the road heading into town—heading to Rein’s shop.

It would be nice to see her again. I was well aware that she might not feel the same way about seeing me, but Valdez was a small place, and we were bound to run into each other again one way or another. So what if it was intentional?

It was only an hour before noon when I parked at the curb in front of the art gallery door. My boots crunched in the snow all the way from the truck to the door, which slammed closed behind me with a gust of wind. I took the stairs two at a time and made my way down the hall to the loft door, where I knocked and waited for Rein to answer. I wasn’t going to surprise her again by standing in the middle of her shop like an idiot.

The door opened, and Rein blinked up at me, her brow furrowed and her lips pursed in a firm line that might have been a frown. Her apron was covered in blue paint, mostly across her tummy, and her hair was tied up in a chaotic bundle of curls on top of her head.

She looked beautiful.

“Uh, hey,” I said, wishing I had thought of something clever to say on my drive over. “I was in the area and thought I’d pop by and say hello.”

She smirked at me and leaned one shoulder on the door frame before crossing her arms, causing her cleavage to push upward at the neckline of her gray T-shirt. It took all of my self-control not to break eye contact.

“Valdez is so small that everyone is always in the area,” she said.

“Alright. Fine. I wanted to come by and see if you wanted to go to dinner with me tomorrow night.”

Her brow un-furrowed as her eyebrows shot upward. “I don’t think—”

“Let me rephrase,” I said. “I want to go to dinner with you tomorrow night, and I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“Wow,” she said. “Was that supposed to impress me?”

Shit. I had misstepped somewhere. This wasn’t the right way to get a girl like Rein Petty to give me another chance. I glanced at my feet before finding the nerve to meet her unwavering stare again. “No. Come on, Rein. How hard are you going to make me work for this? I just want to catch up. I’ll buy anything from your shop if you’ll just give me a chance to make it up to you.”

I didn’t expect her to laugh at me, but she did. She slapped her leg, rolled her eyes, and then retreated back into her loft. I followed her as she talked to me over her shoulder. “You using your money to get me to go to dinner with you is exactly the reason why I don’t want to go.”

“Quit playing games with me,” I said as she drew to a stop in her little kitchenette.

She was making tea. She poured hot water over a teabag and leaned one hip on the counter. “I’m not playing games. I’m just being honest. I know that can be hard for you, but not for me.”

Ouch. “Alright. I deserved that. Just tell me, is there anything I can do to change your mind?”

Her eyes flicked back and forth between mine as she considered my offer. She pursed her lips and pressed her forefinger to her chin. Her thoughtful expression left me weak in the knees, and I copied her stance and pressed my left hip to the counter for support.

“Well,” she said slowly. “I’ve been itching to move some things around in here but can’t do it by myself.”

“Just tell me where you want everything and I’ll do it,” I said.

She lifted her tea to her lips, and somehow, her eyes smiled at me over the rim as she took a sip. “All right,” she said and nodded toward the painting of the northern lights I had stopped to look at last time. “I want that one moved to face the door, and then I want to reorganize the show room so that everything faces inward in aisles. Simple enough?”

I nodded. “Easy.”

“Good,” Rein said. “Let’s get to it then.”

Rein stood at the top of the stairs by the loft door so she could direct me. She had a keen eye and was able to visualize how she wanted the place to look pretty easily. She guided me all over the place, and I tried not to let on when my shoulders and neck started to ache. That damn floral couch was going to be the death of me.

It took a good hour and a half before we had the showroom looking how she wanted. Her vision of the aisles gave the place order, but it definitely changed the vibe. You could no longer see all the paintings when you came in the door. A good seventy percent of them faced the other way, so when you came in, you were mostly staring at the back of white canvases on easels.

I joined her at the top of the steps and crossed my arms. “If you’re not happy with it, we can keep going,” I offered.

Her eyes slid over the room slowly. “You know, I think I liked it better before.”

I glanced at her and then looked back at the room. “Me too. You could see everything when you came in. It was open and welcoming. Now it feels… too controlled.”

She grinned. “Let’s put everything back exactly where it was.”

I looked at her out of the corner of my eye to see if she was fucking with me.

“Unless you’re bored,” she said hurriedly.

“No, not at all.”

“Okay,” she said. “Then let’s get to it.”

I went back down the stairs and began reorganizing it all back to where it was. Rein was picky and made sure everything went exactly where it had been before. She matched certain paintings with their matching paint splatters on the floor and made sure I lined them up just right. Her eye for detail was insane, but she was an artist, so it made sense.

When the room was back to the way it had been when I first came in, I stood at the bottom of the stairs looking up at her. “Better?”

Rein giggled. “It’s just how I like it.”

I put my hands on my hips. “You had no intention of keeping it the way you had me move everything, did you?”

She shook her head. “Not even a little bit.”

I laughed and scratched the back of my neck. “I should have known.”

“You should have, but I’m glad you didn’t. Is dinner still on the table for tomorrow night?”

“Definitely,” I said.

“Good,” she said. “Pick me up here at seven?”

I nodded. “Sounds good.” I turned to a painting of Emmett’s diner on my right and tilted it, leaving it hanging crookedly behind me as I climbed the stairs. “For making me bust my ass,” I teased.

She smiled. “I like it like that.”

“We both know that’s a lie.”

She snickered and slapped my shoulder playfully. “You always were a good sport, Brayden. Now get the hell out. I have work to do.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She nodded and hopped down the stairs, waving over her shoulder. She didn’t look back, so I slipped out into the hallway. I found myself smiling all the way to my truck. This was the first step to her forgiving me for being such an ass all those years ago. I knew it would take more than moving some paintings around and taking her to dinner, but I was already on better ground than I had been when I first came back to town.

I didn’t deserve it, but I knew she was going to forgive me.

Maybe she already had.