22. Chapter Twenty-One #2
“Brady, why didn’t you tell me your brothers were coming into town?”
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he led me to his oversized leather office chair and pulled me onto his lap. Only once I’d settled did he speak.
“I didn’t tell you because, in the end, it doesn’t matter. You and I are going to be together. End of story.”
I leaned my head against his shoulder. “Why does this have to be so difficult?”
He caressed my cheek. “There’s no difficulty.”
“How can you say that?”
“Darlin’,” he said softly, “look at me.”
I sat up, met his gaze, and stared into those beautiful blue eyes I’d loved since I was a girl.
“Ellie, I love you. Do you love me?”
I smiled. “You know I love you.”
He grinned. “See? Was that so difficult?”
“Brady—”
“It’s only difficult if we make it that way,” he said. “And I have no intention of doing that.”
He paused, then tilted his head with a playful smile. “You know, I could get used to this. You should come by every day and distract me.”
I rolled my eyes. “Can you imagine the talk that would create?”
“Let them talk.”
I walked out of the bank feeling more settled, a little warm and fuzzy . . . but still bothered. I couldn’t wrap my head around how crazy his momma had become.
When Brady arrived at my house that evening, he had his hands full—pink roses in one hand, a large box of chocolates in the other, and a grin that could melt almost any heart.
I shook my head. “What’s all this?”
He stepped inside. “It’s the middle of the month, right?”
His thoughtfulness—and the fact that he remembered my cycle—made me laugh out loud. Could this man be any better?
I took the flowers and candy and placed them on the hall table. Then I grabbed his tie, pulled him to me, and thanked him in my own way.
He wrapped his arms around me, and we spent several delicious minutes saying hello until Doris called us for dinner.
We walked into the family room and found my aunt still settled on the couch. She looked better—more color in her cheeks, a little more brightness in her eyes—but still not quite herself. She also looked less annoyed at Brady than she had the night before. So . . . progress.
Brady didn’t hesitate. He walked straight to her and smiled that signature smile of his.
“Luanne, you’re looking very well today.”
“Thank you,” she replied, perfectly straight-faced.
He offered her his hand to help her to the table. She hesitated. Just a beat. But that smile—his quiet, persistent kindness—was a force even Aunt Lu couldn’t resist.
She took his hand. Reluctantly. And Brady beamed like he’d just won something meaningful.
I smiled, too. It was hard not to.
After settling her into her chair, Brady walked over to me and held out my chair as well. I sat down—and caught my aunt watching. That moment lingered. I could see the shift. She was impressed. Even if she didn’t want to be.
Dinner was lovely—warm, easy, filled with the kind of quiet contentment I’d been craving.
Afterward, we spent the evening playing poker. Yes, poker. My aunt had a long-standing love for five card draw and a reputation for being absolutely ruthless at it. She wiped the floor with us—and took delicious satisfaction in doing so.
Brady tried his best to coax her into a conversation that required using his name. He was clever about it, too—baiting questions, subtle setups.
She never took the bait.
And the more she avoided it, the more convinced I became that she knew. She knew about the deal I’d made with Brady. And she was going to give him a run for his money.
It was wildly entertaining. Infuriating, too—but in the way only family can be.
***
Friday came early—earlier than usual, thanks to Atlanta’s Eastern Time and our Central Time departure. But I didn’t mind. Any time with Brady was time well spent.
This was our day—on my turf. I was going to show him my place, let him see the life I’d built. And I couldn’t wait to see how it looked through his eyes.
Brady looked devastating in his dark gray suit and blue tie. He’d traded his signature cowboy boots for sleek black leather dress shoes.
I wore my black Calvin Klein suit—the same one I’d worn that first day at the bank.
Judging by the way Brady’s eyes roved over me, I had his full approval.
Doris, saint that she was, came early to be with my aunt.
I was still nervous about her health, even if she had the kind of grit that might outlast us all.
As we slipped out the door, Doris wished Brady luck and told us to enjoy our day.
Brady and I exchanged a glance. Enjoying our day? That wasn’t going to be a problem.
The drive started out perfect—just Brady and me, shoulder to shoulder, with the early sun chasing us toward the city.
Then we hit Atlanta morning traffic.
I disliked traffic. Brady abhorred it.
For someone so easygoing, he got surprisingly uptight. I think he almost swore. Almost.
Once we reached the bank, I could tell he wasn’t in the best mood. He tried to blame it on the traffic—but I could tell it wasn’t just the traffic twisting him up. It was the way he kept gripping the steering wheel as soon as we hit the state line.
“Brady,” I said gently, “you don’t know what it means to me that you’re willing to move here. I love you.”
He took my face in his hands. Those strong, steady hands that had always felt like home.
“Ellie,” he said, voice low and sure, “I would do anything if it means we can be together.”
“I know,” I whispered.
He kissed me, and I wished him luck. As we parted, he walked toward the bank—confident, collected—and I headed for the Starbucks across the street to meet my agent, Olivia.
She greeted me with a hug the moment I stepped inside. I’d missed her. She was more friend than agent, but she handled both roles with grace.
“Elle, you look fabulous,” she said, practically glowing.
“Thanks, Olivia, you look great, too.”
We grabbed our drinks and found a table. She was eager to hear everything—my time in Alabama, the whirlwind romance, the infamous Jacksons. And most especially, Brady.
“Elle, you really look great,” she kept saying. “I think Alabama—or should I say Brady —looks good on you.”
I laughed and agreed. Brady was the perfect accessory.
We chatted about everything: book sales, new story ideas, her husband Darren. It reminded me—I’d brought her Christmas gift and bonus.
I reached into my purse and handed her the sealed green envelope.
She grinned as she took it. “I thought you’d forgotten, my dear Elle.”
She tore it open like I knew she would. Inside: a generous bonus and two tickets to Hawaii.
She jumped up and hugged me hard.
“Merry Christmas, Olivia.”
“You’re the best. Thank you, thank you!”
“You’re worth every penny.”
About an hour and a half later, my handsome country boy walked through the door. I watched Olivia’s expression shift instantly. She was impressed. Honestly, who wouldn’t be?
I found myself wondering if I needed to tip her chin up—or mop up any residual drool. It was a good thing she adored her husband.
Brady was pleasant, but something was off. He wore his smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
I didn’t ask in front of Olivia, but I didn’t have to wait long—she had another appointment and left shortly after.
When we made it back to his truck, I turned to him the moment the door shut.
“What’s wrong?”
He kissed my forehead. “Not a thing. The interview went very well.”
I gave him a long, pointed look.
“I’m serious. They said they’ll let me know after Christmas, but they practically offered me the job.”
“Well, that’s great.”
He smiled. But it still didn’t touch his eyes.
He stayed unusually quiet on the drive to my townhome. It wasn’t far from the bank, nestled in a newer, upscale section of the city—a three-story brick place with clean lines, warm light, and just enough space to feel like home.
And yet, something in Brady’s silence lingered like static.
Brady pulled into my drive and parked, staring out the window with his brow furrowed.
“So, this is home, huh?”
“You don’t like it.” I tried not to be crushed by the thought.
He glanced at me and smiled. “It’s nice.”
I raised an eyebrow, not buying it.
“Are you going to be here when I come home from work?” he asked.
I reached out and touched his cheek. “That’s the plan.”
He caught my hand and kissed my palm. “Then I love it.”
I wanted to believe him.
No—I did believe him—that he loved me, that being together was what mattered most. But I also knew he wasn’t telling the whole truth.
He might be wearing a suit and city shoes, but in his heart, Brady was pure country. Atlanta didn’t feel like home to him. Not the way Kaysville did.
And somewhere inside me, a tiny knot of guilt began to tighten.
We climbed the stairs to the second floor—the main living area of my townhome. Brady paused at the top, taking everything in.
“City homes sure make you climb for comfort,” he said with a half-grin, glancing at the stairwell.
I laughed. “It keeps you in shape.”
He turned slowly, surveying the space. “It’s beautiful,” he said, though his voice was quieter than usual. His eyes lingered on the rich browns and creams, the warm gold accents, the subtle elegance I tried to tuck into every corner.
“But it’s . . . different,” he added, still glancing around.
“Different good? Different bad?”
“Just different,” he said more to himself.
I watched him walk through the great room and into my office, which opened off the main space. He stopped at the gallery wall filled with framed photos—me and Aunt Lu on vacations around the world, years of memories frozen in snapshots.
I stayed by the French doors, watching him study each one.
He was so quiet. I’d never seen him like this.
Eventually, I walked over and slipped my arms around him.
“Brady, what’s wrong?”
He pulled me in closer, holding me tight, but said nothing.
I leaned against him. “We don’t have to live here,” I whispered. “We can buy a house outside the city. There are wonderful family-friendly neighborhoods with schoolyards and front porches and people who wave when they drive by.”
His silence lingered, but the way he held me—like he didn’t want to let go—said everything.
“I’m sorry, Ellie. I love your house. It’s beautiful, and I see you in it. But I always pictured us at the lake—kids running through the grass, jumping off the dock. I’m just trying to adjust.”
“I know you love your house—and honestly, I do too. I just don’t know if I can live in Kaysville, especially so close to your parents after everything that’s happened. We could keep the lake house and visit on some weekends. That way our kids still get to enjoy it.”
He rubbed my back gently, his voice low and steady. “Darlin’, I love you. It doesn’t matter where we live—as long as it’s with you.”
Then he grinned down at me. “You got a bedroom?”
I laughed and pointed down the hall. “Yes. And it’s even furnished.”
“Will you let me wake up there beside you every day?”
That was my dream. “I’d love that. But Brady, I want you to be happy.”
He cupped my face in his hands, holding me in that quiet way that made everything slow down.
“Ella Lu Eaton,” he said, his voice rich with emotion, “you’ve made me happier these past few weeks than I’ve ever been. The only thing that would make me happier would be for us to be married.”
“We’re getting there, cowboy.”
He picked me up and swung me around. “Can we please hurry that up?”
“Hey, it’s not my fault you can’t seal the deal with my aunt.”
He looked at his watch. “Well, if we leave now, we can still spend the evening with her.”
I loved his optimism, but I had a feeling Aunt Lu had a few more tricks left up her sleeve.