Rescued By A Perfect Stranger: A Single Dad, Age Gap Romance (Bearberry Bay - Rescue Series Book 4)

Chapter 31

~~ Lorelai ~~

I try to roll over to escape the sun pouring in my window.

Ugh! Every part of me hurts.

I end up just turning my head away.

I blink until my vision is no longer blurry, and I see the bottle of pain pills on my bedside table with a bottle of water. A small smile curls my lips, knowing James left them for me there on purpose. I hadn’t heard him get up and leave, so he must’ve been pretty quiet.

After a few minutes, the need for a pill outweighs the need to be still. I pull myself up to sit on the edge of the bed to reach them.

Flashes of the accident last night storm through my head.

And James.

His steady presence made me feel like I didn’t have to be strong for a change. It was amazing to be able to sink into his arms. He felt like... Like home.

It takes about 20 minutes before the pill does its job and I can move around without grimacing.

I need a plan. I have a bike to replace, and I need to figure out what to do about Bray. He’s gotten violent with me before, but that had been a slap, or a pull on my braid. I could handle those things. If it’s escalated to running me off the road, that’s a problem.

My phone chimes from the table. I see it’s plugged in, and I know I didn’t do that. Warmth flushes through me again as James’s consideration registers. He’s so... Good.

Then my brain wanders to the way he curled over me last night. His hands on my skin, soothing me when I shifted off my bruised elbow. He”s so... Comfortable.

Then my mind goes to the way he made me come on his fingers just to show me to keep my standards high, then walking away without his own needs met. He”s so... Sexy as hell!

He says we can’t be together, but he keeps coming back, keeps giving me more. I want more. I want it all, but I certainly can’t have it if I don’t sort out my brother.

I pick up the phone and open the text app.

There’s a message in the group chat from Cami reminding us we’re meeting at Kelley’s tonight. I was so excited the group chose the pub. I haven’t been back since that first night in town, and I’ve been wanting to try more of the menu items with their drool-worthy descriptions.

Another text is from Madison asking what I’m wearing tonight, which makes me laugh. Coming from anyone else, I’d think she was nervous and asking for advice on what she should wear. But from Mads, I know she’s ready and able to give fashion advice at any moment. She legit wants to know what I pick out so she can tell me yes or no.

The phone chimes and vibrates in my hands, and I almost drop it. It’s a new message from James.

“Picking you up for dinner. Should be there by 5, if no calls come in. Should I come up? Do you need help with your hair?”

I remember the feel of his hands smoothing through my hair that day in the cabin when I couldn’t manage to comb through the tangles myself. Yes, I want him to come up. Yes, I want help with my hair. Yes, I want to feel his hands on my skin.

I scroll up and read his earlier texts.

7:59 am - “I hope you rest awhile, but I asked Ms. Stella to leave you something for brunch outside your door so you don’t have to go out.”

I open the door and see a covered tray resting on the floor. It hurts to bend down and lift it, but I imagine how much worse it would be without the pain meds from James’s thankfully-married doctor. I put the tray on the table and lift the cover. Croissants and cold cuts, some sliced fruit, a carton of juice, and what looks suspiciously like a chocolate turnover with a cloudy blue parchment folded around it. Bless Stella for knowing what to leave for me.

10:07 am - “I can’t stop seeing that jacket shredded to pieces knowing it could have been your skin.”

10:43 am - “Just wanted to say I wish I heard the rest of your cute convo with Emilie. She asked if you were ok or had any booboos to kiss.”

I pop a piece of melon into my mouth and type out a reply. ”Plan is to shower and change while the meds are still working. Thank you for bringing me home and plotting this scrumptious breakfast. Still working out the kinks, but I’ll let you know later if I need your assistance.” I add a winking emoji so he’ll see the bit of flirting in that last sentence.

On a whim, I snap a photo of the tray and send it before I chicken out. Surely he doesn’t care to see the food that was the result of his thoughtfulness.

But the phone immediately chimes again. “Is that a Cloud Nine pastry I spy? Lucky lady!”

“It IS.” I type back. “Cami is a goddess in the kitchen! I do feel lucky.”

I smear some of the softened butter on a split croissant and turn it into a sandwich with some ham, salami, and swiss cheese. I halve a few of the olives and throw those on, too. My stomach is telling me it’s been a long time since that one slice of toast last night, and I know I need to eat something with those meds.

I manage to shovel down the sandwich, shower, and comb out my hair before I start to feel sore enough to slow me down.

My phone chimes, and I see it’s Morgan in the group chat. “@Lai. You ok? James told me you wrecked on your bike. What do you need?”

There’s a mad rush of reactions from all the ladies, and I sit naked on the edge of the bed to type out a reassurance. “The bike is toast, but I’m ok. I’ll see you all at dinner.” I pause, then add, “@Madison, I’ll send you a pic of my outfit to thumbs down later.” She returns with a laughing emoji.

Another chime comes in.

“Managing ok?” From James.

“Got a shower but tell Emilie booboo kissing is very needed!” I’m enjoying these mini connections with James so much, even through the misery of what feels like an all-over body bruise.

I put on some lingerie, but that’s as far as I get when the exhaustion hits. I lower myself gingerly back down onto the bed and let my lids close.

When I wake again, I take another pain pill and stay in bed until I feel the ache start to ease. I mentally go through my still-meager wardrobe hunting for something soft and easy to move in. I’ve always been a tee shirt kind of gal but being friends with Madison has made me look at clothing in a different light.

Once I’m able to pull myself back out of bed, I snap pics of a couple of tops I could wear with the swingy black slacks Mads made for me and send them to her. She’s quick to text back. “The baby blue one but pull one shoulder down.”

I tip my head, staring at the sweater on the hanger. I pull on the v-shaped neckline. Sure enough. There’s room for it to drape over. I wouldn’t have thought to do that.

“I know you have that scarf I gave you stuffed somewhere on your closet shelf. Tie that around like a belt and let the ends hang on the side with the covered shoulder. And under no circumstances do you wear your moto boots. NONE!”

I envision the placement. “But that will call attention to where that side rides up.”

“Exactly!” she sends back. “You’re welcome.”

My first response is a great big NO. I’ve always tried to make myself as invisible as possible. But I’ve been watching these ladies live their lives to the fullest, and I want to learn how to do that. There’s also a good chance James will notice, and that’s all I need to accomplish tonight. Anything else can wait a day.

I pop another pain pill right before 5. I’m dressed and ready for dinner, and I make myself take the stairs. My whole body feels like it’s been punched and dragged through the dirt, which is accurate, but I”ve lain around all day and I’m ready to be in motion.

I freeze at the bottom of the stairs.

Brayden is pacing in front of the reception desk. He’s still wearing yesterday’s clothes, his hands are pulling at his hair, his red-rimmed eyes unfocused toward the ceiling. He hasn’t noticed me yet, but I can’t very well go back up the stairs without attracting attention.

I’ve never seen Stella so flustered. Her collar is askew and her up-do is leaning to one side, her frown pronounced as she watches Bray carefully. I can’t leave her to handle my problem.

I approach slowly, and my boot hits something on the floor that goes skittering several feet.

They both turn to look at me.

Stella’s eyes go wide, and she shakes her head. Bray is stationary, peering as if his eyes need a minute to focus.

I bend and pick up the item from the floor. It’s Stella’s prized Montblanc. She never lets anyone touch that pen, and she only uses it on special occasions. She”d confessed it was a gift from a long-deceased suitor who had said it matched the dark blue of her eyes.

I walk over to the side of the desk slowly, and hand Stella the pen. She clutches it in her fist. “Go,” I whisper. She backs around the corner toward the office, and I hear the door close softly and then the click of the lock.

Brayden is still staring at me.

“Bray.” He doesn’t move at all. I take a step forward. “Bray!” He flinches. Then I see tears puddle in his eyes, and he falls to his knees.

“I thought you were dead!” he cries. He shuffles forward on the floor and wraps his arms around my legs. I stand there listening to him sniffle for a full sixty seconds. Then I lean down and put a hand on his head.

“Bray.”

I rub his shoulder thinking it will make him realize where he is.

“Bray, let go.”

He doesn’t lessen his grip.

“Bray. C’mon. Get up.”

Finally, he releases my legs and stumbles to his feet.

“You can’t die, Lai. Who else would take care of me?”

“Bray, I found the best place. It has gardens with fountains and hors—”

My words are cut off by his hand. He covers my mouth and grabs the back of my head with his other hand. “Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop.”

I push his chest with my hands, but his wiry body is immovable.

“You don’t love me. You just want me gone, like everyone else.”

Bray’s hands are big. His fingers wedge against my nostrils, cutting off my air.

I try to shake my head, but his grip tightens.

I can’t breathe.

I pull on his arms. My nails rip into his skin, raking lines down his biceps.

Panic makes my knees shake. Knees. Knees are weapons.

I shove my knee into his groin as hard as I can. His hands fall away, and I gulp in air.

“Dammit, Lai,” he rasps out. He’s bent over, one hand braced on his knee and one cupping his crotch.

I start backing away. There’s nowhere to go. All I have are words to try to calm him.

“Bray, I—”

“No,” he interrupts. “We’re going to the ATM now.” He straightens, grabs my wrist, and pulls me toward the door.

I try to pull away, but I can’t. He turns the revolving door, stepping in and trying to pull me with him. I plant my feet and pull back, desperate to free myself.

There’s a flurry of movement outside, and I look up to see James striding up the sidewalk from where he’s parked his truck at the curb.

The heavy door continues its rotation in slow motion.

James sees me struggling, and his eyes find mine through the glass. His mouth opens in a cry I can’t hear.

I shake my arm, trying to get loose.

Bray sees James advancing and scrambles to stop the door from turning.

James lunges into the outer compartment as the opening narrows.

The door keeps turning.

Bray doesn’t let go of my arm.

I grab the edge of the door with my other hand, and the automatic braking system stills the movement. Bray is jarred to one side, his fingers slipping from around my wrist.

The sudden release sends me flying backward, sliding on the slick marble.

The door moves forward again with James’s push, and Bray tumbles out into the street. He gives me a long look as James reaches my side and then disappears.

“Are you hurt?” James asks, lifting my arm for inspection.

My wrist is red and there will probably be bruising soon, but I flex it, and it doesn’t hurt. “I’m okay,” I tell him between breaths.

James retrieves my bag from the floor where it had fallen when Brayden grabbed me. He holds it out to me, and I slide it back over my shoulder.

I’m shaking, but I take a deep inhale and head toward the doors

“Lorelai.” James’s deep rumble stops me. I turn to face him and the fear still showing on his face almost sends me to my knees. He was terrified for me. For me!

“I’m okay.” I smooth a hand over his chest, and I feel his heart still racing. “Really, James. I’m okay. Let’s go to dinner. Everyone is waiting for us.”

I see Stella peeking around the corner. “Stella, it’s ok.,” I call out. “He won’t be back tonight. I’ll handle it.”

James picks up on my cue. “I’ll fill Trevor in, Ms. Stella. Go ahead and lock up.”