Blue Jeans in Low Beams (Hayes Family #1)

1. Brenna

1

brENNA

“You cut your hair.”

My older brother’s declaration sounds almost accusatory rather than surprised, filling the large open space of his loft-style apartment. I whip around, my eyes immediately landing on the offending subject.

Standing just inside the front door is Milo Hayes, Brandt’s best friend since before I was born, rubbing the back of his neck, like he’s ashamed of the new look. He shouldn’t be. He looks good.

Then again, Milo Hayes always looks good.

“Yeah,” he replies, shaking his head. “Not on purpose. Mae's got a new gal at Dye Hard, and well…”

He doesn’t need to finish his thought. All three of us know exactly what he’s thinking. This isn’t the first time that Mae has tried to bring in someone to help her out at the local salon here in Hickory Hills. It also won’t be the last, since none of them seem to stay very long.

“She at least shake her tits at you as a make good?” Brandt jokes. Well, half jokes, since we all know that’s exactly what Mae did .

“It doesn’t look bad,” I offer, ignoring my brother’s comment, and already missing the trademark curl that always fell in front of his forehead, his messy dark locks much less unruly at this shorter length. “In fact, it almost makes you look…younger.”

“Younger? Are you calling me old?” he retorts, walking into the apartment.

“I mean, you’re thirty-eight. You are old,” I tease.

I’m well prepared for the looks both Milo and my brother throw at me. I don’t even bother to hide my laughter either. What kind of little sister would I be if I didn’t toss out that kind of torment?

Not that I believe either of them are old. But I can’t not walk through that wide-open door.

“We’re not old,” Brandt corrects me. “You’re just a child.”

I scoff playfully, shifting from my position on the couch, carefully balancing my study materials in my lap. “I’m twenty-six now. I’ve not only graduated from college, but pharmacy school. And when I pass the boards in a couple of months, I’ll legally be able to dole out meds to old fogies like you.”

“Keep talking like that and Milo has full permission to throw you out on your ass this summer. Ship you right back to Mom and Dad’s so you can study amid the chaos.”

Brandt pushes past me, ruffling my hair as if I’m still six, climbing the stairs up to his bedroom two at a time. I scoff in response, not only to the hollow threat, but to the hair ruffle. Because I know there is no way he’d kick me out. Hell, my moving in here for the summer while he’s gone was his idea.

There might be twelve years between us, but Brandt and I have always had a unique bond. Much more so than he’s ever had with our middle sister, Bryce. Not to say that the Rawlins family isn’t close—we are. But Brandt and I are absolutely two halves of the same bun .

“You wouldn’t dare…” I mutter, rolling my eyes.

“Fuck around and find out, kid!” he calls down from his bedroom.

How the hell did he even hear me? Sound doesn’t carry that well in here. Especially up to the bedrooms.

The large, loft-style apartment is on the second floor of the old warehouse building that now houses the Southern Brothers Brewing storeroom and Pour Decisions, their taproom that they’ve opened to the public. With two large bedrooms on opposites sides of the apartment—Milo's lofted above the kitchen and Brandt’s over the bathroom—vaulted ceilings, and floor-to-ceiling windows that look out over the field and brewery, the place is airy, modern, and comfortable. It’s also a bachelor pad through and through.

Still, it’s better than moving back home.

“Brenna!” Brandt shouts.

Or, maybe it’s not…

“What?” I holler back, half annoyed, half unsure what on earth he could need now.

“Where’s my rain jacket?”

“How would I know?”

Milo saunters into the living room, shaking his head, snickering. He glances at his watch, then over at me, one eyebrow quirked upward, silently asking the obvious question. I shrug in return, holding up my hands in surrender. I’m just the little sister—I don’t have answers.

“Shoulda known that he wouldn’t be packed. We only have to leave for the airport in twenty minutes.”

“He’s your best friend.”

“He’s your brother,” he tosses back, nodding toward the small closet by the front door. “Jacket’s probably in there.”

I roll my eyes, nodding my own thank you, as I set my notes on the table and get up to go grab the jacket. We should all probably be thankful that Brandt is even remembering to bring his rain jacket, rather than getting all the way to Colorado and then realizing he needs it. I might have only been six when Brandt and Milo went off to college, but I remember the many trips to the post office to mail him things he’d failed to take with him.

Jacket in hand, I head up to Brandt’s room, trying to think of something snarky to say when I hand it to him. I come up short though, which is probably for the best. If I know my brother—which I do—he's in a panic right now. Because Milo’s right; they need to hit the road. It’s a three-hour trip from our small town in middle Georgia up to the Atlanta airport. This is not the time to delay them.

“Here.”

“Oh, thank God, I was startin’ to think I’d lost my mind.” Brandt takes the jacket from me, rolling it up and shoving it into his rucksack.

“No promises you haven’t.” I plop down on the bed, surveying the open suitcase and rucksack. Both are full, but still seem…inadequate. “That’s really all you’re taking?”

“Yeah. So?”

“You’re going away for three months! Did you ship stuff there?”

“No, why would I?”

“Brandt! You’re a guest lecturer for the summer at your alma mater, and all you’re taking is a single suitcase?”

My brother shrugs, as if the whole thing isn’t a big deal. Even though it is. A very big deal.

When Milo and Brandt had announced that they were heading off to Colorado State for college, to major in fermentation sciences so that they could open a brewery, everyone laughed. All these years and a successful brewery operation and taproom later, no one is laughing anymore. Southern Brothers has three major beers that they produce and ship all over the east coast—their availability growing by the day—and a fourth about to make its debut.

It came as no surprise to any of us when the university reached out and asked Milo and Brandt to be a part of a summer program. Nor was it a surprise when Brandt jumped on attending and Milo opted to stay back and be the responsible one, keeping things running at home. What also shouldn’t have been a surprise is the lackadaisical approach Brandt is taking toward the whole thing.

“All I need are clothes. They’re putting me up in furnished housing, and there’s a grocery store less than a mile from campus where I can pick up whatever toiletries I need. It’s three months, Bren. Not moving there permanently.”

I roll my eyes, unable to deal with his nonchalance. I have ten bucks that says I’ll be shipping him something by the end of the week.

“And if I did forget something, you can send it to me.”

And there it is…

“I have things I have to accomplish this summer. I can't be running to the post office every day for you.”

Looking up from the T-shirt he’s folding, Brandt smirks at me. The kind of smirk that only an older brother can give. One that is effortlessly annoying and still endearing.

“You can take a break from studying to run to the post office every now and then. It’s on the way to Dolly’s. Don't be actin’ like with Mell working there that you won’t suddenly become a regular. Joining the Sunshine Seekers for breakfast.”

I roll my eyes again, stifling a groan this time. Not because of his mention of my best friend, MaryEllen Davenport—Mell for short—who is also temporarily back home and working at Dolly’s, Hickory Hills’s local greasy spoon, while her husband is deployed. No, my eye roll is because of his crack about joining the group of female townies that he and Milo nicknamed the Sunshine Seekers, who get together multiple times a week in the early morning to trade secrets and town gossip.

“Why on earth would I be joining the Sunshine Seekers?”

"Keep them up to date on all my happenings. Gotta help fuel that rumor mill, Bren!”

He tosses a shirt at me, laughing wryly as I dodge it. Seriously, only an older brother.

“Two things I’m not interested in—being your errand girl and fueling the gossip mill. And I’ll get to see Mell plenty. No Sunshine Seekers required. We’re gonna have our very own hot-girl summer!”

Brandt stops dead in his tracks, hands held in the air, midfold. “You’re gonna have what?”

“Hot-girl summer. It’s about confidence and being yourself and owning your life. With Jon deployed, Mell decided that this is our summer. We’re gonna live it up.”

As much as a married woman and a chronically awkward nerd can live it up in their small, rural hometown…

“As long as you study! Pass those boards.”

“Yes, Dad…”

Brandt glares at me, hating my snarky response. I know how much he hates it when I call him that, the insinuation that he’s old hitting home, those twelve years between us a little more glaring when I point it out.

“You know how proud I am of you, right?” he asks, turning serious. “I know that really does make me sound like Dad, but, really, Bren, graduating at the top of your class, not only with your undergrad but from pharmacy school, is also a big deal.”

“Well, had I figured out pharma was what I wanted sooner, then I could have avoided a couple of years of school there, but hey. Never did take the easy route, did I?”

Brandt sits down next to me, the mattress bobbing from the extra weight. Slinging an arm around me, he squeezes, the side hug made that much more awkward by the suitcase tipping into us.

“So what’s the plan?”

“Finish getting you packed so we can get you on the road. You’ve got, like, ten minutes before you and Milo need to leave. And then I can get started on hot-girl summer.”

“I meant for you. Heard anything from that company your advisor mentioned?”

I shake my head. “Nope, but wasn’t really expecting to. Graduation was only a couple of weeks ago, and I can't sit for the boards for weeks. I’m sure I’ll hear something once that’s all closer and I’m potentially certified. ’Til then, I’ll be helping out at Hickory Hills Drugs, trying to ignore Mr. Hovland’s pleas for me to stay.”

“Would staying in Hickory Hills be that bad?”

I look at my brother, searching for the answer. One I know I don’t have.

On the one hand, Hickory Hills is home. My whole family is here—parents, grandparents, Brandt, Bryce, and her husband and kids. Plus, at least for now, Mell. There are a lot worse places on this planet than Hickory Hills, Georgia.

However…there are also better places. No, that’s not quite right. Different places. Places where I haven’t known the whole town my entire life. Ones where life isn’t dictated by town gossip. Where I have a chance at anonymity.

I’m a small-town girl at heart. Always will be. I’m just not sure that it’s where I want to stay.

“Not bad,” I acquiesce. “But this is maybe also my chance at something new and different. I won’t lie; I have no idea what I want.”

“You got time. Just trust this old man, follow your heart, and you won’t be sorry. ”

“Brandt!” Milo’s voice carries up the stairs and into the room, his impatience clear.

“On my way!” Brandt shouts back, before turning to me and mouthing, “Shit!”

I laugh, pushing to my feet to help him zip everything up. A heartbeat later, we’re down the stairs, standing at the front door of the loft. My heart squeezes, the reality that Brandt is really leaving hitting me. We’ve spent so many years apart with me up north for school, this summer was supposed to be our chance to hang.

Not that I blame him for going. CSU is a better offer.

“Alright kid, place is yours. Well, half yours,” Brandt says. “Gotta put up with this one.”

Milo scoffs. “I’m a walk in the park compared to Bryce, Topher, and those kids crammed into your parents’ place.”

Ha, now there’s an understatement. My skin crawls with the idea of trying to share a house with my parents, sister, and her husband and kids. All of whom are currently cohabitating in my childhood home thanks to Bryce’s house being under renovation. Nothing about that sounds like a good time.

“Thank you again for letting me stay. I promise to take care of your room. It will be cleaner than you left it, guaranteed.”

“As long as you’re not bringing strange men back to the loft, whatever you do is your business.”

“Dude…” Milo comments.

“Where exactly am I finding these strange men in the itty-bitty rural town we’ve lived in our whole lives?”

“You’re the one who said you are having hot-girl summer.”

Touché…

“ And your mind immediately went to her bringing men home?” Milo questions .

“And why would they be strange?” I tack on.

“Don’t know, don’t care, just keep them out of my bed.”

OMG…

“And with that, I think it’s time you go.” I push at him, trying to start the process. We’ll be here all day if I let him, and he’ll miss his flight.

“Be good, kid. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.” Brandt wraps his arms around me in a big bear hug, squeezing tight.

“That doesn’t take very much off the table,” Milo tosses over his shoulder, walking outside.

I laugh into Brandt’s shoulder, still holding on for a moment, making sure I pass off as much love as I can in a single hug. We break apart a moment later, and with a simple nod, he’s off. And I’m all alone in the loft.

Here’s to the best summer of my life.