Chapter Nineteen
CHAPTER NINETEEN
B RENT STARED UP AT THE star-strewn sky and breathed in the night. Cut grass. Mr. Hines had likely mown at twilight as was his custom, and the air carried the clean scent of summer on the way. The crescent moon hung high in the sky, a fingernail throwing gentle light. The world should have soothed him, but he was too keyed up to allow the calm.
After his speech revealing his alter ego, B.J. Hamm, he'd been inundated with people who wanted to congratulate him on his success. A few kids had declared his books to be "supercool" and Hunter Todd wanted to know if he could be in one. When Brent had told him he'd been the model for Skyler in the basketball book, the boy had gotten so excited he'd knocked a cup of iced tea into his grandmother's lap.
Overall, Brent couldn't have wished for a better coming out.
The soft look in Rayne's eyes had made it all the better. She'd looked so happy, so surprised yet not surprised. Rayne had always expected the best of him. Somehow, even though she hadn't been around when he'd begun writing, her belief in him had kept him going. He hadn't lied when he'd drawn out her crumpled poem from long ago and told everyone how she'd encouraged him with her challenge to he who he was.
Somehow he was comfortable in his skin now.
For the first time in a very long time.
"Hey." Her voice was low behind him.
"Hey," he said, not turning around. He had his hands in his pockets and kept them there. He wanted to reach out for her and draw her ito him but something told him to wait.
The expanse of lawn between his carriage house and his parents' huge screened-in porch was draped in shadows. His parents never left the porch lights on because they bothered him. He was glad for the darkness, glad for the mystique that shrouded them.
"Want to sit on the swing?" he asked, cocking his head in her direction.
"Sure," she said, moving toward the sturdy cedar swing sitting beside the willow tree.
''Let me grab a blanket. It's a little cool," he said, jogging the short distance to his door. He'd left it unlocked so quickly snatched the same throw he'd used to cover his nakedness weeks before and returned to where she sat. "Here."
She took the woven throw and twined it about her shoulders. The sleeveless dress she'd worn was vintage Rayne - soft, flowing, and feminine. The skirt draped the seat of the swing and made her look like dessert. He lowered himself next to her and rested his arm across her shoulders, pulling her into his embrace. It was a position long familiar to both of them. She snuggled into the curve of his arm and sighed.
They spoke no words for a while. He inhaled the clean scent of her hair and idly twisted one of her curls about his finger. The way he'd done a hundred times before.
Peace stole across his soul.
"Henry is beside himself at the thought you wrote those books he read." she said, finally breaking the tranquility.
"Mmm," Brent said, brushing a kiss on her forehead.
"You surprised a lot of people," she said.
"Mmm,” he said again, not wanting to let go of the moment. He just wanted to hold her and be.
She turned so she could see his face in the glow of the moon. "Are you going to talk to me?"
He smiled. "Talking is overrated."
She smiled. “So I learned. I think I like not talking with you.”
He couldn't stop the chuckle. “Ah, you weren't too bad yourself."
"I was bad. and that's what made it so good."
"Yes, you were," he said, dropping another kiss atop her head.
"I'm really proud of you. Not because you've made it as a writer, but because you let everyone see a glimpse of who you are, the man you always should have been. I think old Rita Ratcliff's teeth may have fallen into her plate when you pulled that book out.”
“Guess it was shocking for many. Most people know I shoot a mean game of pool or can tell the difference between single and double malt scotch, but stringing sentences together? Yeah. Harder to comprehend."
He kicked the swing into motion. She slid her sandals off and tucked her toes into the hem of her dress."It must have felt good to surprise the town that way.”
"I didn't do it to surprise them. I did it for you."
She stiffened against him. "For me?"
"Yeah. I wanted you to know I'm ready to be the man you always wanted me to be. I want to be your future."
He watched her press her lips together. "I've always known what kind of person you are. What you announced didn't surprise me as much as it surprised others. But I don’t know what my future is right now, Brent. If you did that as some way to keep-"
"Why not?" Fear gathered in his chest. He'd thought they were moving to something bigger. He hadn't made love to her with the thought it was only a roll in the bay. It had meant more. And he’d wanted to show her that he was substantial, ready to be what she needed in all ways.
She sighed. “Because this isn’t just about me and what I want, Brent. I have Henry to think about. And my staff, my career. I can't promise this thing we're doing isn't just a …slice of my life."
"A slice of your life?" He pulled his arm from beneath her head, reeling against her words. “What do you mean?”
"You said yourself we weren't going to plan or label this thing between us. I'm trying hard not to do that. And that’s difficult because my heart has always wanted you, Brent. But I’m not just my heart. I have a head and I’m not sure that’s ready for an about face just because I have this… What I’m saying is I don’t want to fall in love with you, Brent. Not again. I …just can’t.”
He put a foot down, stopping the movement of the swing, grappling with her words. A slice of her life. "So what we've shared is nothing but a fling? A sort of makeup for what you missed when you were fifteen? Please tell me you weren't using me for sex or for some misplaced revenge for not escorting you to prom. Please tell me I'm more than a detour on your journey to wherever the hell you're going."
"I'm not using you. I've tried everything in my power to stay away from you, to stop my heart from wandering down that road again. Last time ended with a big drop-off and a fall that left me damaged for a long time.”
“So because I screwed up as a teenager, you’re protecting yourself now. You’re still mad about that. Can’t get over it?” He scooted away from her as if he could move away from the pain she'd caused him. “And news flash, I’m not breaking your heart. I never wanted to do that, not even all those years ago.”
“But you did.”
“I’m putting myself out there. I’m telling you I want you. I want us. I want a future. And you’re nixing it because of what happened in the past.” Never in a million years would he have thought putting himself out there would hurt so bad. The J. Geils Band was right. Love did stink.
“No. I’m trying to do what's right. For me. And frankly, I didn’t want to put on dancing shoes and walk down the rocky, pitted road.”
"What road? What are you talking about?"
"You. Your track record with women. I know you think you want something more now, but-"
"I'm not thinking. I’m doing. I’m offering you commitment.” Even as he said those things, he knew that he’d rushed things. Tonight he’d come clean on his career, exposing himself, presenting his neck, so to speak. He wanted to do that same with Rayne. To climb into the fire and burn for the chance that he could have what he truly wanted - a love of a lifetime. "I want a life with you. And Henry."
She closed her eyes and shook her head. She actually looked anguished at his words. He couldn't believe she didn't want him. Or rather wouldn't have him. The irony was bitter as the dandelion growing in the cracks of the pavers below their feet.
“Brent, I can’t. Not right now. I’m just not at that point in my life. I’m trying to rebound from the losses…”
He rose and moved away from her. Moments before he'd been perfectly content. How had it gone south so quickly?
Rayne followed him. Lord, the woman pushed even as she pulled away from him. ''Brent, don't do this.”
"Don't what? Don't be disappointed? Don't feel like I've put myself out there only to be trampled on? I've finally shed everything. Every bit of the cloak I've wrapped myself in for so long. Babe, I'm more naked here than on that day you caught me unaware in my house."
Her hand brushed his forearm and moved to clasp his hand. "Please. I'm not saying no. I'm just saying not right now.”
He pulled his hand from hers. He'd never known hurt like this. Not really. He'd felt an emptiness when Rayne had left years ago. He'd been angry, confused, but had understood why she'd left. He'd been on a different path, one that he couldn't seem to get off. He'd not had the will to toss away his blue-chip, five-star status for puppy love. He hadn't had the strength to go against his parents, his coaches, or the town to follow a dream.
But that was then. And this was now.
He'd laid it all out for her. Because he loved her. Not because he'd always loved her. But because he'd fallen in love. Real love. With Rayne Rose.
"I love you," he said.
Rayne gasped.
"I fell in love with you. Go figure. My heart has been sitting on a shelf, way up high, almost forgotten. But then a baseball flew over my fence and everything changed. The moment that gate flew open and you stood there, pretty as a bluebonnet and mad as a hornet, I knew. You were here for a reason."
"But maybe that reason wasn't what you thought," she whispered. She sounded so sad. So resigned to overthinking everything about their relationship.
"No," he said, spinning toward her. "I don't think it was for any other reason than we were meant for each other. From the beginning."
"Maybe," she said, staring into his eyes. Dampness hovered on her lashes. "And maybe I came to encourage you to a new place in your life."
He shook his head. "And what about you?"
"Maybe you are my one loose string. The one thing I'd never had completion on. Maybe my coming to Oak Stand was about pulling that string so I could move on and not think about you at the strangest times. Maybe this hasn't been about a new beginning but about closing the book on what was."
Brent turned, anger clawing its way from his gut. "Are you shitting me?"
She stiffened. “No. I’m trying to look at all sides of this. I can't throw everything away because you think you're in love with me. I have a child. I have a-"
''A career. Yes, I know.”
"I don't take that lightly," she said, looking plum miserable. “Surely, you understand? I’m not at liberty to …I don’t know …make decisions based on my heart. Based on what I want with no consideration for the fall out. I’m an adult, Brent. A mother. A business woman. I’m not a girl.”
He looked hard at her.
She was right. Rayne wasn’t the same girl she’d been. This woman didn't think with her heart, didn't leap without looking. She checked and double-checked. Caution had become her nature. But even as he knew this, and to a degree accepted it, he knew she was wrong about seeing their relationship being a slice of life.
But he didn't know what to do about it.
Because his gut told him she loved him. Told him that this could be forever. Told him that he was right. But to push her was to lose her.
"Hell," he murmured, lowering his head. He pressed his lips against hers, tugging her lips apart, loving the way she tasted, mixing the honey of her taste with the saltiness of her regret. Of her doubt. Of her pain.
He pulled her to him, loving the way she fit him. He'd have to let her go.
Had to.
He couldn't manipulate her. She had to choose him because she wanted him, wanted a life with him.
He wanted a heart given. Not taken.
He broke the kiss.
"I don't think I love you. I do," he said, stepping away from her and colliding with the weeping willow's graceful branches. How appropriate they stood next to a crying tree. Symbolic. "And I know you love me."
She pressed her hands to her face. "Brent, I never said I didn't love you. I want to be sure. I have to be sure."
"Okay. So be sure."
Her head jerked up. "What do you mean?"
"You need time. Okay. I think what we've got is worth waiting on. I'm going with my gut here, but if you need to double-check your heart with your head, then I'll be patient."
She stared at him for a moment, her eyes glazed with emotion. “You’re going to …what?”
He shrugged. Rayne blowing into his life was a god send for him, but not for her. She'd come to Oak Stand to clear her head and he'd clouded her vision more. He understood.
"It's not bad. I'm not asking you to choose me and Oak Stand over your career. I'm asking you to open yourself to the possibility of a whole new direction. A path we can blaze together. I don't want you to stop being you. I like the adult Rayne. You're responsible, levelheaded, and fiery. But there's nothing wrong with merging her with the girl who made origami birds and daisy chains. With the girl who took chances and chased dreams. This isn't a do this or do that sort of thing. It's a be this and that sort of thing."
She lifted the throw that had fallen to the crook of her arms and wrapped it tight around her as she stared at the moon. She looked lonely and lost. "Have you been watching self help shows? Because you're making a lot of sense. Not that those shows always make sense."
He let go of a smile. Maybe things would turn out okay. He had to believe that they were meant to be."Dr. Phil has me on speed dial."
She smiled in spite of her conflict. "I'm leaving for New York tomorrow. My agent texted me earlier tonight. The executive producer of Food Live! is interested in developing my show. I have a meeting Monday because the network is making an offer."
Suddenly, his heart didn't feel so secure. It felt like it had jumped from his chest with no parachute. Not good. Not good at all.
"This is it. It's what I've been waiting for. Once in a lifetime opportunity for me and everyone associated with Rayne Rose Enterprises," she said, shaking her head in a resigned manner. "You'd be here in Texas, and I'd be in Manhattan working umpteen hours a week. It wouldn't work."
He stood like a statue, trying to pretend disappointment hadn't lodged in his gut. Trying to pretend her words were untrue. That they didn't prick him like thorns. Irony had raised its head and laughed. "You'll have to decide what you want, Rayne Rose. Go to New York and see what they say. I'll be here when you come back."
She raised her gaze to his. Her dark eyes filled with regret. "I may not come back."
He couldn't stop the flinch that came with her words. He felt as if he should try and get his feet beneath him, for the rug had been yanked out. He pulled his gaze from hers and searched the night sky as if he could find some help from the celestial bodies glowing above him. No shooting star fell. Just a void.
"Even so, you'll have to decide," he said to the moon.