It was nearly eight at night, and I had yet to hear back from the garage—ahem,Braden—about my car. I had spent the majority of the day stressing about it while trying to provide my best services as a maid of honor to Tessa. Ireallycouldn’t afford to get a new vehicle right now, hell I hadn’t been able to afford that one when I bought it and I was still paying it off. I didn’t know what I was going to do if it was beyond repair, or hell…if it ended up costing more than what was currently sitting in my savings account. Plus, there was the bachelorette party to think of, and the fact that I wouldn't be back at work for atleasta month—my car issues couldn't have come at a worse time.
I was in the kitchen, making myself a cup of chamomile tea when the sound of knuckles tapping against the screen door startled me. I sloshed half of the tea on the white t-shirt I was wearing. Cursing, I set the mug down on the counter and crossly walked over to see who was calling at this hour. Mom hadn’t been home when I got back from running errands with Tessa and still wasn’t.
Walking into the foyer, I could see Braden’s tall outline through the screen door as he stood on the porch. He had his back to me and was looking out towards the driveway. He’d obviously changed his clothes since earlier that morning—he was wearing clean jeans and a gray t-shirt now. His hands were in his pockets, his forearm muscles taut.
I appreciated the view for a moment, feeling guilty for doing so—but Braden had filled out in the last several years. The ink on his arms just added to that bad boy feel he’d always had. It really wasn’t fair. A part of me had hoped that he’d be miserable and unsuccessful, but from the little bits of information I’d managed to discreetly tug from Tessa—he’d graduated at the top of the mechanical engineering technology program he’d taken, and his attractiveness had only increased with age.
My heart started to thrum rapidly in my chest. I tugged at my white t-shirt, now stained and damp from the spilt tea, and became extremely self-conscious of my too-short sleep shorts. I definitelywasn’texpecting company. In fact, I’d been expecting a quiet evening in where I could reflect upon how confused I was about everything in my life and how powerless I felt about fixing it all. The last thing I needed was one of my mental tormentors showing up at my doorstep, literally.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded, opening the screen door cautiously. Braden turned slowly, his eyes rising slowly from my bare feet up. It was as if he could physically touch me through his gaze, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
“Your radiator had a leak and your engine overheated, but I’ve replaced it and you’re good to go.”
“Oh, thank you,” I managed, crossing my arms across my chest when his eyes lingered a little too long at my girls.
“I thought I’d bring you your keys and see if you wanted a lift,” Braden added, his voice sounding strained as he finally pried his eyes up to my face. He swallowed hard, his Adams apple bobbing with the action.
“Thanks again,” I told him, holding out one hand. He remained still, uncertain. I looked down at my clothes. “But…I’m not exactly dressed to go out right now, Braden…although I do appreciate the gesture. I’ll just have my mom take me over in the morning.”
“Right, yeah,” he said quickly, fishing in his pocket for my keys. “Well, if it’s any consolation—I think you look incredibly sexy,” he told me with a smirk, finding the keys and pulling them out. He handed them to me, our fingers brushing for the briefest of moments. My skin sizzled where he’d made contact with it, just like this morning in the tow truck.
I know he felt it too, from the way he pulled back as if the contact had burned. He swallowed hard, his eyes lifting from our hands to my chest, then to my collarbone, and finally landing on my eyes. His gaze smoldered.
“Braden,” I warned. My heart clenched in my chest, like a fist was squeezing it. His eyes hardened, and his hand dropped to his side.
“Okay, well. I’ll catch you later then,” he said, pursing his lips. He turned around, walking quickly down the front steps and back to his truck.
A heaviness settled into my chest, and I closed my eyes at the sound of his tires kicking up gravel as he sped down my driveway.
* * *
The next morning, I woke up early. I had a shower and took my time picking out an outfit for the day. I needed to pick up my car and find out how much the repair set me back before Mom, Tessa and I went out shopping for Mom’s dress for the wedding.
Mom’s usual outfit of choice was a pair of worn blue jeans and a t-shirt. In fact, I hadn’t seen her in a dress in years—discounting the box of photographs I’d found from her modelling days, of course.
These days, she didn’t put much time or effort into her appearance at all. I used to think it was because she was a single mom and didn’t have many opportunities to dress up. When I was sixteen, I’d stumbled across that box in the attic though, and I realized that maybe she’d distanced herself from that world because it was too painful.
My mom had met my dad during a modelling job. He was a photographer who’d moved to Toronto from Columbia, and they’d fallen in love and married quickly. He had a sweet-talking, slick charm about him that Mom was instantly drawn to. Shortly after I was born, the wanderlust crept in and he left after telling her he wasn’t cut out to be a father or a husband.
Current wardrobe aside, my mother was a stunning woman. I’d gotten my dark hair and thick lashes from her, and most of my features as well. The big difference was that she had green eyes, while I had my father’s brown eyes. I hated them. Brown eyes were boring. Plus, when I was really little, I used to fear that I’d inherited the brown eyes from him because of all the shit lies he told her when she was pregnant with me.
When Dad left, Mom stopped caring about clothes and makeup and invested herself completely in me, Tessa’s family, and the community. She filled the empty parts he’d left in her with meaningful relationships, but she’d never given her heart away again.
I’d looked him up, once. Shortly after stumbling across that box of photos. He had many photographs in popular travel magazines all over the world, including National Geographic, and according to his personal website—he was married with two kids. They’d be just entering their teen years, now.
Any desire I’d had to get to know him had evaporated. It was hard to want to get to know someone who had clearly given you no second thoughts after leaving. He could have reached out over the years, but he hadn’t. He had, however, started his new family and solidified the fact that Mom and I were better off without him.
I exhaled, trying to force my thoughts away from my vacant father. Instead, I studied my reflection in the mirror. There was a very real possibility that I’d run into Braden again at the garage, and Ineededto look hot. I wanted him to see what he was missing out on, and I wanted him to regret it. I wanted to punish him a little.
I had chosen a patterned sundress, my tight blue jean jacket and a pair of flip flops. I’d gone for a natural look in the makeup department and left my long hair down, letting it fall in soft waves down my back.
Once I was satisfied with my reflection, I walked down the stairs to the kitchen. Mom was sitting at the table, sipping a glass of orange juice and reading the paper. The front page of theToronto Starboasted an article about Travis Channing being back in the Muskoka’s.
“Oh God, seriously?” I grumbled, snagging the paper from her to read. My eyes scanned the article, searching for any details that might have leaked to the media. The article was mostly detailing how he’d be headlining at the Parry Sound Stampede, although it did mention he was also in town for a friend’s wedding. Thankfully, it didn’t reveal which friend or the date of the event.
“Don’t worry, I already checked,” Mom smiled, shaking her head. “Not sure what they expected from him. Travis has always been a bit of an attention seeker.”
“An attention whore, more like,” I grumbled, dropping the paper back down on the table as I thought about that night at the bar, when Travis had sauntered in with his entourage. The look on Becky’s face when she saw him was like she’d seen a horrific accident occur. She was ghostly pale and had made an excuse to leave immediately. “You should have seen the women he brought to O’Riley’s.”
