But she couldn’t change the past. And she couldn’t allow this man to break her heart again. She hadn’t fully recovered from the last time.
It took every bit of courage that she had to pull her hand out from under his and to look him in the eye.
Braydon must’ve suspected that she was getting ready to run because he reached for her again, this time curling his fingers around her bicep. His touch was gentle yet firm. Jessie glanced down where he touched her, then back up to meet his gaze. It was then that she realized he was leaning over the table, his mouth inches from hers.
Before she could figure out what to do next, Braydon’s mouth was on hers. The kiss blazed like an out-of-control inferno and Jessie reached for him. It never dawned on her that they were sitting in the middle of a crowded diner. When his lips met hers, his tongue thrust possessively into her mouth, Jessie’s thoughts fled.
She was finally jarred when Braydon groaned, a sound that made her body tremble.
When he pulled back, Jessie stared blankly at him, not sure what to say.
“We’re starting over, Jess,” Braydon stated in a tone she hadn’t heard from him before. It was a demand, not a request, and it sent chills racing down her spine.
As much as she wanted to cave, to give in to him, Jessie knew what the stakes were.
Instead of agreeing, which she was scared she was actually going to do, Jessie shook her head, locking her gaze with his. “I’m sorry, Braydon. I can’t do it.”
They sat there, staring at one another for what felt like forever. Knowing that she was going to give in if she stayed too long, Jessie apologized again as she got to her feet.
“It’s over, Bray.”
And with that, Jessie turned and walked to the door, fighting the tears that were forming and threatening to choke her.
BRENDON NOTICED BRAYDON’S truck the moment he pulled into the diner. Just as he always did, Brendon was stopping by to pick up lunch, opting to eat in his truck before heading out to the next job site. While he had waited at the front counter, Brendon had noticed Braydon sitting with their mother, their expressions serious. Rather than interrupt, he had waited for his food and made his way back to his truck.
Ten minutes later, he was still sitting in his truck when he saw Jessie pull up and head inside.
Interesting. Looked like Lorrie was at it again.
Ever since Cheyenne explained that his mother was the reason for her repeated attendance at Walker family functions, Brendon had suspected Lorrie was playing matchmaker. Clearly he’d been right.
It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate her good intentions. She was his mother, after all, and he knew she didn’t have a devious bone in her entire body. She just sometimes didn’t know the whole situation.
And in his case, no one knew even a fraction of what was going on inside of his head.
In recent months, things had changed for him. Drastically.
It didn’t help that he’d had to adapt because of Braydon’s absence. In more ways than one.
Not only did he have to figure out how to live alone, which he would admit he hated with a goddamn passion, but he’d also had to significantly alter his preferences. The threesomes had come to a jarring halt, leaving Brendon with the only option of going solo. Which he had. Just because Braydon left and thoughts of Cheyenne were making him crazy didn’t mean he’d died.
Not that sex was the only thing he ever thought about. In fact, he was on the tail end of a rather brutal dry spell these days. One he didn’t see continuing if he had anything to say in the matter.
When Braydon originally left, Brendon hadn’t had any intention of hooking up with another woman, because the notion seemed too far-fetched. Be with a woman alone? He’d never done that before. Not to mention, he didn’t have the desire to be with anyone. Not Jessie and certainly not some stranger.
Of course, his good intentions were always tested. The first time had been a night at Moonshiners when he’d gotten shit-faced drunk. One of many. The sexy redhead he’d hooked up with had been passing through, visiting her uncle or some shit. He’d spent the night—one that had been incredibly awkward with his twin not there—with her at her hotel, and in the morning, with his head throbbing as though it would explode, he had disappeared before she opened her eyes.
Even through the haze of alcohol, at first Brendon had felt guilty. Not because he’d slipped out on the woman or because he’d gone to bed with her in the first place, effectively discarding his one-on-one virginity card after all these years. No. His guilt was a hell of a lot more personal than that. It generally didn’t rear its ugly head until he thought about Jessie and how much pain he’d caused her. He might’ve been a first-rate bastard, as proven by the way he’d treated her lately, but Brendon damn sure knew his reactions weren’t rational. Nor were they acceptable.