Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
I buckled myself into the sleek, black leather seats of Bram’s Jeep Wrangler. It was the cleanest, most pristine vehicle I’d ever driven.
I’d bundled up in a Blue Devils hoodie and skinny jeans and wrapped my hair into a bun.
The moment my foot hit the pedal, my suspicions were confirmed: I loved the vehicle’s openness.
I drove down curvy backroads, watching the beautiful autumn colors shift in the distance, with the wind whipping around me and the road following beautiful, flowing creeks.
The experience was a balm for my fragile soul.
I thought about Bram as I drove. I couldn’t deny that adult Bram was superior to the younger version I’d known and loved.
When we were teens, he had been flirty, adventurous, and a little cocky.
Now, he maintained the best parts of his past self but mixed them with humility and maturity.
How was I supposed to keep myself from falling back into him ?
Kallie didn’t want me to get my heart involved, and I was fighting hard. Yet there was no easy way for me to separate my heart and brain when it came to Bram. There had never been.
I stopped by a Roanoke eatery and grabbed a fancy biscuit sandwich and a coffee. An idea crossed my mind. Bram and I had awkwardly traded phone numbers the night before. This could be an opening to make things casual. I took a snapshot of my breakfast and sent it to him.
Me: Trying not to get grease all over your leather seats.
Five seconds later, a reply bubble appeared.
Bram: The seats can take it. Enjoy every bite. Wish I were with you.
My breath hitched. What could I say to that? My fingers hovered over the keyboard of my phone screen for a couple of minutes before I settled on “same”. I hit send and then cringed.
A one-word response?
Ugh.
I was a little worried when he didn’t write back immediately. Was he expecting more from me? Should I have waxed poetic or maybe made a joke? That chaste kiss we’d shared the day before—did it change anything?
You’re overanalyzing this.
I had something else to attend to before the appointment. Still parked, I polished off the end of my breakfast sandwich and grabbed my phone, dialing the number before I got too nervous.
Kallie answered on the third ring. “What’s up, mountain hottie?” I heard the chime of the bakery door and the muffled sounds of diverse voices in the background .
“Morning rush?” I asked.
“Yeah, kinda busy. Everything okay?”
“Everything is great. I won’t keep you. I’m on my way to my appointment. And oh, um, Bram kissed me. And we’re getting married.”
Proverbial crickets sounded down the phone line.
“Kallie?” I asked, wondering if she was still there.
“Did you say you are getting married because of a kiss?”
“No, not because of the kiss,” I said steadily, although I was smiling. “That was separate. Marriage is in name only, not a real marriage.”
“Will there be a license? Because that seems legit.”
“Yes. It’s a long story. I’ll explain everything later, but it’s for a good cause.”
“I-I don’t know what to say to what you’re telling me, except, have you lost your fucking mind?!”
I cringed. “No, it’s all good, I promise. It’s for a million dollars.”
The sounds of shuffling paper and the woosh of the bakery case opening and closing echoed.
“I have to go, we’re backed up. I don’t know what you’re pulling here with this joke of a phone call, but you will explain later.
You better have something good lined up too, or so help me, I will drive my ass there tonight. ”
“I’ll explain it all, I promise,” I replied. “Have a great day. Talk to you later.”
Hanging up, I wondered if I’d ever be able to adequately explain to my best friend how this was a good thing—the marriage part, at least. I wasn’t sure how to describe the kiss that could have lit a thousand torches with its spark.
Kallie didn’t trust Bram, and no amount of charity work or fire was going to make her change her mind.
But there was no time to dwell on it. I had no idea what to expect from this appointment and didn’t want to be preoccupied. I put the Jeep in drive.
I walked into Dr. Kaveh’s office in Roanoke’s medical complex with minimal nerves. The friendly nurse excused herself after taking my vitals, and I waited patiently for Dr. Kaveh’s physician’s assistant, since that’s who the nurse indicated I would be seeing.
A knock sounded at the door, and I let out a small, “Come in.” I’d seen my fair share of medical professionals over the years, but nothing could have prepared me for the man who walked through the door of that sterile room that reeked of alcohol and plastic.
The physician assistant’s smile was the first thing that struck me, followed by his height (at least six feet), broad shoulders, and angular jawline.
He had to be around my age, given the attractively deep grooves and fine lines in his features.
Shoulder length, blonde hair was neatly gathered at his nape in a tie.
Stormy gray eyes rested on me. Warmth radiated from him, and my heart beat a little harder.
I felt out of my element with his considerable presence.
My eyes did a quick sweep of his form, and Kallie’s voice popped up in my mind unbidden, “ Probably not the only thing that’s big .”
“Miss East?” he asked, his voice low and smooth.
I could only nod.
“I’m Hunter Kearsley, the physician’s assistant here. How are you today?”
He shook my very sweaty hand with a firm grip, and I tried not to cringe at the moisture in my palm. He then went over my prognosis and what they’d been informed of from Dr. Billingsly’s office. He stood ridiculously close to me, making the windowless room seem boiling for an autumn day.
“So, we’ll get some blood drawn for labs today and try to get your scans scheduled for Thursday.
Does that work? I want to try and get you in as soon as possible, but I have to pull some strings.
” He winked, and something inside me fluttered.
“Dr. Kaveh will bring you in for a proper consultation on the scans next week, and if she sees no issues, we’ll schedule you for surgery within the next few weeks. ”
I couldn’t manage to do anything but stare at Hunter Kearsley. I hadn’t spoken one coherent word since he’d entered. He continued talking about the excellent facilities and asked about my pain. I barely heard what he said.
“Are…are you okay, Miss East?”
You’re staring at him and not responding, you idiot!
“Y-yes,” I recovered, my voice too shrill for the occasion.
“Are you sure?” He waited.
I sighed, closing my eyes for a second. “Yes. I’m so sorry.
I wasn’t paying attention. It’s just been a couple of hard weeks, you know?
I’m still adjusting to the surgery news.
And I lost my job in Charlotte. Then I came here alone to have surgery, and now I’m crashing with my brother’s best friend, which feels like an inconvenience even though he insists it’s not.
” The words came out faster than vomit. Thankfully, I caught myself before I started confessing about the soon-to-be fraudulent marriage.
I glanced up at him, expecting to find a firm grimace or at least a look full of puzzlement. Instead, he was smiling broadly.
“And here I was, wondering how I could ethically ask you about yourself, and you just volunteered so much I was curious about.”
My heart stuttered.
Was he…flirting with me?
He was so attractive. Why would he want to know more about me? That couldn’t have been what he meant.
“You could have asked,” I replied, not knowing what else to say, and my nerves amplified at warp speed .
“Tell you what.” He smiled and handed me a small business card. “I can’t think of anything better than giving you this card and you deciding if you want to text or call that cell number at the bottom.”
I bit my lip, trying not to appear as stunned as I was. I reached out and took the card.
“I mean, maybe?—”
“Think it over. A friendly conversation is all I request.” He motioned toward the badge, which was attached to his shirt, displaying his credentials. “I’m sure I’m not supposed to ask patients out. I’ve never done it before, so I don’t know.”
My cheeks burned. He was hitting on me!
I nodded profusely. “Got it.” I tucked the card into my pocket.
“It was nice to meet you, Miss East.” With a parting smile, he pivoted to leave.
“Julianna,” I replied, sitting up a little straighter. “Call me Julianna.”
Hunter Kearsley’s card burned a hole in my pocket as I went to get my blood work. I could feel it while I shopped in the discount food store to pick up some off-brand snacks and ingredients to make chili and cornbread for Bram.
As I drove back from Roanoke to the farmhouse, the mountain wind in my hair and the feelings of pure freedom mingled with the heady awareness that I, Julianna Joy East, had been noticed by an attractive and successful guy who wasn’t Bram.
Contacting Hunter Kearsley was out of the question, though.
The thought of it made me ill with nerves. Plus, how would Bram feel about it?
It shouldn’t matter what he thought. Sure, he and I were going to be married, but for convenience.
Then I imagined trying to explain the situation to Hunter, and I shook my head at what my life had become for health insurance and an inheritance.
I pulled the Jeep into the garage, and my phone alerted with a text.
Bram: How’d it go?”
It was a simple enough question, and given the one-word answer I’d come back with earlier, I shouldn’t start analyzing his one-dimensional question too hard.
Before I could stop myself, I typed out what the truth was, but also held a bit of an agenda.
Me: It was great. Got some blood work as well as the hot physician assistant’s phone number.
Nerves ignited in my stomach as I pressed send. How would he react? What if he wasn’t concerned in the least?
Three dots popped up on the screen as if he were typing, but then they disappeared.
I watched it happen again.
And again.
Unable to watch anymore, I grabbed my belongings and ran to the back door to release Lakey from her kennel.
She was excited to see me. Then, as I stroked her spotted fur, a notification came through on my phone. But it wasn’t from Bram, it was from Whit.
Whit: How’s it going? You like the house?
He had no clue I was at Bram’s, and he had no idea how I had reacted when I saw what he’d done to Grams’ house. He definitely didn’t know about the marriage yet, or I would have already heard from him .
Yet, I felt unprepared to face everything and masked the truth.
Me: It’s nice. Thanks for letting me stay there.
Whit: There? Where are you now?
I didn’t realize I’d typed there instead of here . Of course, he would latch on immediately to that. I sighed as I typed.
Me: What happens in Mill Creek, stays in Mill Creek.
He had no idea how close to the truth that was.
Whit: Cryptic. Have you seen Bram? He was supposed to come and help you.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard, my heart beating out of my chest. I started typing, knowing what I was doing was a risk. I didn’t owe my brother an explanation for my actions. Yet, for the sake of transparency and growth, I let the truth fly.
Me: I’m actually at Bram’s house right now. I’m staying here.
Just like Bram had done a bit ago, I saw the typing dots appear and disappear on the screen repeatedly, until finally a message appeared.
Whit: What are you doing at Bram’s? Why are you staying there?
I needed to play it cool. I took a deep breath.
Me: A lot to explain. But nothing is wrong. I couldn’t stay at Grams’. It was too different.
Me: It was like she was erased.
The bubbles bounced around once more, and I held my breath.
Whit: I should have told you. Didn’t think you’d have big feelings about it, or I’d have warned you.
Whit: I’d never hurt you like that.
I exhaled in a loud whoosh.
Me: I had no idea I’d react like that. Bram invited me here, and I’m staying for now.
Whit: Stay where you need to. The house will be there when you need to go back.
Whit: You should ask Bram why you staying there is dangerous for him.
Fear ran through my body, and I sat up straighter. Dangerous ?
Me: What do you mean? Can I call you?
Whit: Can’t talk this second. But ask him. I’ll text you later.
My heart thrummed inside my chest. Lakey began to jump on me, panting. I sat at the breakfast nook in the kitchen and bent down to hug her neck. The mysterious nature of the conversation intrigued and worried me. How could my staying there be dangerous for Bram?
My mind flitted back to that picture on his dresser of the mystery girl, but I pushed the thought away. He couldn’t be with someone, not if he were going to marry me. But that was an agreement just for show, wasn’t it?
I’d offend him if I started asking questions when he’d plainly stated he was unattached. All I could do was hope that eventually the truth of everything would spill out into the open, and that this perceived “danger” was Whit’s imagination.