As Tears Go By (27 page)

“Want
to go inside and play piano, Hunter?” Braydon asked, his focus on the
quarrelsome ex.

“Yeah.”

Unsure
how to guide Hunter without triggering a negative reaction, he carefully laid a
hand on the boy’s arm, which he immediately shouldered off. “Show me where the
door is, bud.”

Hunter
took the steps slowly, his attention diverting to the numbers on the house and
the plant sitting by the steps.

It was
crucial that Braydon do this right. He took a moment to see what caught
Hunter’s interest. “Do you like plants?”

His
head tipped to the side as his eyes squinted. His fingers released the waxy
leaf and shook off the feeling as though the tactile sensation was revolting to
him. “Slippery.”

Braydon
touched the plant. “Yeah. How about some piano now?”

Hunter
stepped to the door, the distraction of the plant forgotten, and Braydon got
him situated as quickly as possible. He immediately started playing a beautiful
piece Braydon didn’t recognize. So long as they could hear the piano through
the walls, Braydon felt safe stepping away for a minute. He returned to the
front porch where Kevin’s posture had taken a hostile turn, crowding over
Becca’s smaller form in a way that had the hair on the back of Braydon’s neck
rising.

Becca’s
motions were jerky and obviously agitated. His teeth clamped tight as he
marched down the porch steps.

“Open
the trunk, Kevin,” Becca repeated.

“How
long? Was this going on before I left?”

“Kevin,
pop the damn trunk or I’m going inside.”

Knowing
Becca didn’t typically swear Braydon drew closer, his attention divided between
her and the sound of the piano playing. Should the music stop, Braydon would
need to rush back inside with Hunter, which he was prepared to do at a second’s
notice.

“I
don’t know if I’m comfortable with Hunter being around some guy I don’t know.
You’re supposed to be taking care of our son.”

And
that, apparently, was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Becca got right in
his face, stabbing a finger into the man’s chest. “I am taking care of him,
just like I’ve done since the day he was born. Who I invite into my home and
who I expose Hunter to while he’s in my custody is none of your business and
you have no right to question my judgment when I’ve been the one to make every
difficult decision since day one. If you wanted the right to an opinion you
should have taken your family a little more seriously.”

“He’s
my son. I have every right to question you.”

“Why,
because you’re suddenly taking some court ordered responsibility in his life?”

Intervening,
Braydon swiftly opened the driver’s side door, and pressed the trunk button.
The tailgate popped open and Kevin scowled at him. “Get out of my car.”

“Get
away from my woman.”

Becca
notably tensed, her attention drawn to the house. Her shoulders relaxed as she
registered Hunter was playing the piano and therefore not in any trouble.

The man
jerked back and laughed, not at all concerned about where his son had gotten
off to the way Becca was. “Woman? Nice. Didn’t know you had a thing for
rednecks, Rebecca.”

Rather
than get into some pissing match with a guy who clearly never appreciated
Becca, Braydon strolled to the rear of the vehicle and reached for Hunter’s
bag, so they could return to where they were needed.

“Who do
you think you are?” Kevin snapped.

Bray
took Becca’s hand. “I’m the replacement. The last guy didn’t do the job, so the
higher ups brought someone in who could handle things better. Thanks for
dropping Hunter off. We’ll see you Wednesday.”

Grasping
Becca’s clammy palm, he removed her from the hostile environment. They entered
the house where Hunter still played and Braydon shut and locked the door. He
stashed his bag on the table and turned to Becca, who was shaking with
adrenaline.

“He
gets me so angry!” she hissed.

“Yeah,
he’s a real prize.” He looked out the window wondering what she ever saw in
that rat. “He’s gone now.”

“How
dare he question my judgment? The only reason he has
any
involvement in
Hunter’s life is because the courts insisted, and he doesn’t want to pay the
difference in child support. Half the time he picks him up late and drops him
off early so he can play the bachelor, which he’s been playing for most of his
married life!”

Without
giving him a chance to speak, she went on. “He never took an interest in this
family or my needs. It was always
him
and
his
needs before ours.
I would have given him everything if just once he applied himself to being the
father Hunter deserves!”

Braydon
rubbed his hands over her shoulders, not used to seeing her so distraught.
“Well, he’s gone now. Don’t let him upset you. Look, Hunter’s home.”

Her
rage gradually faded. Glancing at her son, she beamed and sighed. Braydon held
back as she slowly walked to the piano. Becca got as close as she could without
disturbing him. She kissed the tips of her fingers and gently placed them on
Hunter’s right shoulder. “Welcome home, bud. Did you have a nice Thanksgiving?”

Hunter’s
fingers played rapidly over the keys, but his head turned and bobbled for a
split second. Then he tapped his chin to the top of his mother’s fingers. It
was the slightest acknowledgement, but it was still a response and contact,
something Braydon never saw him do before.

It
struck him that Becca also found the gesture unexpected as her shoulders lifted
and she drew in a shaky breath. Her lashes flickered and her mouth tightened as
her lips trembled. The impact of such a minor yet grand acknowledgement
definitely hit her. Bray felt it too.

Stepping
close to her, he slid his hand around hers and clasped her fingers tightly. Her
grip was fierce, expressing how monumental what just happened was. “Did you see
that?” she whispered, her eyes shimmering under
a sheen
of unshed tears.

He
nodded slowly, his chest tightening with vicarious pleasure for the gift she
was just given. “I saw.”

He was
prepared to leave so they could have time together, when Becca surprised him by
asking, “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

It was
as though a door to a secret passage had opened. The plans for the house could
wait. He grinned. Yes, she was definitely
his
woman. “I’d love to.”

Her
face softened as she smiled at him, a heavy weight forming in his gut. She’d
explained to him that these mild gestures, so often taken for granted, held a
monumental impact. But to witness it, to actually feel the impact, was
something entirely different. The significance of Hunter’s gesture radiated in
the air, as though the energy of the universe had shifted. So small, the mere
touch of a chin to his mother’s fingers, yet so meaningful, and for the first
time, he truly understood what she meant by small victories.

Chapter Twelve

Miranda
approached the tall bistro table and shut Braydon’s laptop. “You seem busy.”

He
sighed. She was lucky his program saved automatically. “I was.”

“Can I
get you a drink?”

Tipping
his chin toward his whiskey sour, he said, “No thanks. Already have one.”

The pub
was located on the same block as their office, so it wasn’t out of the ordinary
to run into other coworkers after five. “How about some dinner? My treat.”

“Miranda,
we’ve been through this.”

She
rolled her deep chocolate eyes. “Still? Come on, Braydon. If she was so
incredible you’d be with her instead of sitting here at six o’clock on a Friday
night.”

“I had
work to finish.”

“What
work? We have no new projects and the Apricot specs were sent out last Monday.”

That
was true, but he’d been engrossed in laying out the plans for the house, and it
was risky doing that in front of Becca. Although Hunter was with Kevin this
afternoon, she didn’t sound into company at the moment. Braydon suspected she
had her period, but didn’t want to talk about it. It hurt, that she wouldn’t
communicate such things with him when there was a possibility she could be
carrying his baby—a prospect that frightened her.
 
It was a touchy subject so he figured he’d
let it go.

“I’m working
on something else.”

Miranda’s
dark brow arched as she slid into the seat across from him. “Are you cheating
on me, Braydon?”

He
chuckled. “No, I’m only working for you. This is a family project.”

Her
hands folded on the sleek surface of the table, her fingers slowly fidgeting in
a way that didn’t fit her typical confident behavior. Although their intimate
relationship had run its course, she was still someone he looked to as a friend
of sorts. “Miranda, are you okay?”

Her
eyes lowered as she forced her palms flat, ceasing all nervous gestures, but he
sensed something was still off. “Is it because I’m too hard, Bray?”

He
frowned. “What?”

“I’m
the CEO and I’m a woman. Sometimes it’s tough to draw the line after hours. I
don’t know if I have any softness left. And if I do, I’m afraid if I let it
show I’ll lose my edge and all those men salivating over my office would bully
me out.”

His
posture softened as understanding dawned. “Miranda, don’t discredit your strong
attitude and don’t change for other people. There’s someone out there who will
love you just the way you are.”

“But
not you.”

He
sighed. No, he didn’t love Miranda, but he’d enjoyed their time together for
what it was. “Miranda,” he said slowly. “We knew what we had. It wasn’t what
either of us wanted long-term. You’d never give up the pace of the city for the
life I’m after and we’d only be wasting each other’s time pretending we suited
for more than a few fun nights.”

“I
could change.”

“No,
you couldn’t. You could pretend—for a while—but eventually you’d resent the
life you were living, and me, because it isn’t in your nature to be someone
else.” He watched her for a long moment. “Why are you suddenly doubting
yourself?”

She
sighed. “It’s lonely out there, Bray. I miss your company.”

But
not him.
“Anyone can give you company, Miranda. I need to be more than company to a
woman.”

Her
vulnerable posture shifted, the impenetrable façade she usually displayed
falling into place as her attention was drawn over his shoulder. He turned and
found Nikki there, grinning. However, her smile didn’t reach her eyes, which
seemed to be zeroing in on Miranda.

“Miranda,
right?” She held out her hand.

“Hello,
Nicolette. It’s nice to see you again.”

Nikki
turned to Braydon. “Mr. McCullough.” Glancing back at his boss, she asked, “Am
I interrupting?”

Shooting
Miranda an apologetic glance, but knowing she wouldn’t want any witnesses to
her confessed
vulnerability,
he slid his laptop into
the case and withdrew a twenty. “Actually, I was just leaving.”

“I
thought you’d be at Becca’s.” Nikki gave Miranda a pointed look.

Braydon
stood and grabbed his jacket, not missing Miranda’s slight wince as Nikki’s
comment hit its target. Miranda was his ex, but certainly not his enemy.
 
“I’m heading there now, actually.”

“Good.
Tell her I said hi. It was nice seeing you again, Miranda.”

“Likewise,”
his boss said with artificial professionalism.

“Goodnight,
Miranda. Nikki.” He turned and left the bar, irritated with Nikki’s display.
When he reached the sidewalk Nikki was right behind him.

“Yo!
Braydon.”

He
pivoted, but she didn’t give him a chance to respond.

“I know
about you and your boss.”

“It
isn’t a secret, Nikki.”

“Some
might advise discretion if that’s the case, but I’m not some. If you still have
feelings for her—”

“Stop
right there, Nikki. Miranda and I are a thing of the past.”

“Didn’t
look like it from where I was sitting.”

“I
wasn’t concerned with the audience. Go ask her if you don’t believe me. I have
nothing to hide.”

Her
gaze narrowed. “As much of an asshole as Kevin was, when he cheated on Becca it
killed her. Sometimes people have a hard time letting go of past relationships
even when their hearts insist it’s time to move on.”

“Exactly
why he’s an asshole. But I’m not. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t compare me to
him.” He’d let go of Miranda, so what she was suggesting didn’t apply to him.
Could she be referring to Becca? No, that wasn’t right. He’d seen her and Kevin
together. It wasn’t pretty.

“Then
maybe you shouldn’t be sharing cocktails with your ex on a Friday night.”

Now he
was pissed. “First of all, I wasn’t sharing cocktails. I was finishing up some
work when she interrupted. Just because we once shared an intimate
relationship, doesn’t mean we can’t continue as friends. We work together.
She’s an unavoidable part of my life. Second of all, while your concern is
genuine, it’s misplaced. I’d never do anything to hurt Becca. I love her. And
third, this is the last time I’ll be interrogated for someone else’s behavior.
Everyone needs to get it through their heads, I’m not Kevin.”

“Good.
I’m glad we’re clear.” She turned, but he wasn’t finished.

“Wait a
minute.” He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say, but something definitely had to
be said. “I know you’re only trying to protect your best friend, but I think
it’s time you realized I’m not the enemy. Why do I suddenly feel like I am?”

“People
fall back into old habits, Braydon.”

“Not
me. When I walk away it’s because I’m done.”

“Are
you sure?”

He
scowled. “Yes, and putting any doubts in Becca’s head will only make her more
hesitant to move on with her life. I know she’s your friend, so
be
hers. She doesn’t need more paranoia.
Everyone isn’t out to betray her. I love her. I’d hurt myself before I’d let
anything happen to her.”

She
sighed. “Okay.” She nodded. “I’m sorry. I saw you two talking and it looked
like a lot more than an employer and employee. I may have overreacted.”

“Miranda
is my friend. Our relationship didn’t end our ties and I still care about her
on a platonic level. I shouldn’t have to explain myself when I haven’t done
anything wrong. And for future reference, I’ll answer to Becca, but I don’t
answer to you.”

Nikki
stepped back and tilted her head. “Wow. It’s nice to know you have a feisty
side beneath all those designer duds. I’m sorry I misjudged the situation.”

He
supposed it was better she approached him rather than run back to Becca with a
bunch of assumptions. “I don’t mind your concern. But I won’t be held
accountable for someone else’s misdeeds.”

“You’re
right. She was upset today and wouldn’t tell me why. I thought maybe…I didn’t
know if I had to kick your ass. You’re a little tougher than I expected.”

His
focus diverted, zeroing in on the fact that something was wrong with Becca.
“What do you mean she was upset?” He’d sensed she’d had a long week and maybe
wasn’t feeling her best, but he didn’t know she was upset.

Nikki
shrugged. “She wouldn’t say.”

Every
passing second suddenly turned to a blatant waste of time. “I gotta go.” As
much as he wanted answers, it was a conversation to have with Becca, not her
friend.

On the
drive to Becca’s his mind rolled over her friend’s warnings. Miranda wasn’t a
threat. He knew where he stood and where he wanted to be. Becca however… She’d
once commented on how deeply she struggled to accept her failed marriage. He’d
never been married, so he had no personal experience to compare such bonds.
She’s also made a comment once about how she would have given Kevin anything if
he only took more of an interest in their family. Could she really still be
facing those demons still after he’d had an affair? It didn’t make sense to
him.

If she
married Kevin, there were valid reasons. In that moment he realized how very
different it was to date someone with a hodgepodge of exes compared to dating
someone who was once married. Marriage was supposed to be forever. How did one
reverse a commitment like that?

He was
getting ahead of himself. This was all on the assumption that Nikki was
implying something when she may not have even been referring to Becca. If he
hadn’t had so many issues with others being picked over him in the past, he
probably wouldn’t be having such a paranoid complex at the moment. He needed to
chill.

When he
arrived at Becca’s and the house was dark. It was obvious she wasn’t in any
sort of outgoing mood, but her presence alone chased away much of his paranoia.
Breathing a sigh of relief, he leaned in a brushed a kiss on her cheek. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

Yes,
something was definitely bothering her. “You okay?”

She
nodded and shut the door. “Just a long day.”

He
followed as she wandered to the couch where she’d seemed to be snuggling up
with a soft blanket and pillow. Settling in beside her, he glanced at the
evening news on the television. The volume was muted and she didn’t seem to be
watching it. “You sure you’re okay, angel?”

“Yeah.”

She
wasn’t being honest. Pulling her to his chest, he wrapped his arms around her.
“Talk to me.”

Sighing,
she pressed her cheek into his shirt. “I got my period.”

He
expected she would. Though they’d slipped up, the chances of conception after
one minor mistake weren’t as great as people often assumed. Some of his
siblings spent months trying to conceive.

“Okay,”
he said slowly. “Shouldn’t you be relieved?” And really, he should be too, even
if he was a bit disheartened, his disappointment was selfish. “I thought that’s
what you wanted.”

Her
lips parted, but her words were absent. Taking a deep breath, she said, “
Want
is a dangerous word, don’t you
think?”

Choosing
his words carefully, he considered what she’d asked. Though Becca claimed to
not want more children, at one time she had. Her fears were legitimate, but
were they reason enough to disallow her dreams of family? This wasn’t going to
be an easy conversation and he didn’t want things to turn volatile. “Sometimes
our wants change with time, angel. It’s okay to want something now and change
your mind later.”

“Please
don’t be all understanding right now. I can’t handle it.”

His
chin lifted from where it rested on top of her head. “How would you have me be?
Irrational?”

She
shifted, pulling away to face him. When Becca insisted on physical distance, it
was usually because part of her required emotional distance as well. “Human.
Can you just be human for a minute?”

His
head tipped to the side. Unsure if he should be insulted. “I am human.” Her
eyes closed and she remained quiet so he nudged her, trying to pull her back to
him, but she shouldered him off. “Talk to me, Becca.”

When
her eyes opened,
a sheen
of tears built above her
lashes. “I’m angry.”

“With
me?”

“No.”
She shook her head, running her palm over her hair. “With God, the universe,
myself.”

“Why?”

Pressing
her face to her palms, she quickly dried her eyes in an attempt to shake off
any show of emotion. “I don’t want to cry. I’ve done that enough, but I’m sick
and tired of every desire hurting.”

What
was hurting her? Was he?
Their relationship?
“Can you
be a little more specific?”

“I’m
talking about children, Braydon. You make me want things I convinced myself to
stop wanting years ago.”