Turns out Braxton likes a good beer tasting too. Except he is only trying the non-alcoholic brews because he knows I don’t drink.
“It tastes a little like oranges and lime.” He takes another sip that ends in a deep groan of pleasure.
Oh my.
We would have adorable babies, just saying.
He holds out his sampler and I take a sip.
“Mhmm,” I say, forcing the liquid down my throat.Definitelynot my thing. Braxton releases his warm, carefree laugh. “Are you sure you should be drinking anything other than water and Powerade?”
“The bug was vicious but short. I feel fine now.” He flashes a boyish grin that doesn’t fit the scruff on his face and neck. “What are you drinking?”
“Classic lemonade.” I beam and hold up my plastic cup.
“Living on the edge there, Hads.” He laughs.
“Why don’t you go taste actual beer? I know you like it. It’s not everyday we get to come to a festival like this.”
“Because I’m not going to put you into any kind of temptation to fall back into a lifestyle I know you want no part of. Besides, this stuff is way better than anything alcoholic.” He casually shrugs, that boyish smile pulling at the corner of his lips again. My heart ruptures. I’m dead. Someone call the coroner.
Gah, stop! I can’t take that smile on him, the one I’ve cataloged as therealBraxton. The happy, carefree Braxton.
“Stop what?” He smirks before continuing, “I am real, by the way.”
Heck.
I went and spoke my thoughts aloud again.
I turn around, pretending I did not hear him at all. There is music, so that’s a decent excuse. Though he must realize I’m avoiding responding because he snickers behind me.
“Let’s go get a bratwurst!” I say a little too excitedly, turning away. Braxton bellows another laughbehind me.
“Youwantanotherone?”Braxton asks as we both finish our second bratwurst.
“Maybe after I walk these two off.” I pat my stomach. I need to find a bathroom and add a hair tie to the button on my jeans for a little extra breathing room. My head feels clearer after eating and my mood is definitely better than earlier. Despite my hesitations about coming here, I’m soaking in the fun and vibrant atmosphere.
Braxton, always the gentleman, takes my plate with his and tosses it into the trash can.
“I could have gotten that,” I say. Though I love his gentlemanly behavior, I tend to feel the need to make sure he knows I am a fully capable, independent woman.
“I know, Hads.” He sighs, running a hand through his thick, onyx hair. “Just let me do nice things for you anyways. That’s all I ask.” Well, okay then. My heart pitter-patters in my chest.
We walk around the festival, soaking in the atmosphere. Leaves crunch under my feet as a cool breeze tickles my neck. The foliage paints the mountains in the background a gorgeous mixture of reds, oranges, and browns. Scents of strudels, pretzels, and beer float through the air. German folk music tickles my ear, and all I want to do is learn how to dance like the folk dancers wearing traditional dirndl (I’m learning a lot here).
“What was it like to live in Germany while all of this was the lifestyle?” I wonder aloud. Would I have been content and happy wearing one of those traditional dresses, living to serve my husband and raise children?
“I would have been a shepherd,” Braxton says matter-of-factly. I stare at him incredulously.
“Why choose to be a shepherd?” I hold back my laughter at the image of this bear-like man herding sheep. Then again…it’s kinda hot.
“I could be like David from the Bible. Insignificant in my status but with time to sit and reflect while out in the fields. The work wouldn’t be easy, but I’ve never minded hard work.” At that, Braxton looks down at me and grins. Does he consider being my friend hard work?
Way to jump to irrational conclusions, Hadley.
“You and that Bible.” I snicker, shoving the previous thought down into a gopher hole. I grew up in the Bible Belt. Some would say that automatically makes me a Christian. I used to believe that, but now? How could a loving God leave me to the life He put me in? One of abuse and neglect.
A loveless life on all ends.
