The big man rolls his eyes, chuckling as he shakes his head. “Are you goin’ to come see what I got, or are you gonna be difficult?”
I swear to God, the woman has to think it over, and I love that for her.
After a few seconds of debating with herself, she blows out a breath. “Fine. But I was just getting to the good part of my book, so this better be—” She stops short when she sees me, dark eyes widening as they move over the state I’m in. “Holy shit. Did you just run away from your wedding?”
I swallow hard. That is exactly what I did, but hearing someone say it out loud has the reality sitting differently in my gut. “The shoes I have on aren’t really built for running, so it was more of a speed walk.”
“What size shoes do you wear?” Curtis is already crouching down, ready to get a look at what’s on my feet.
Lily plants an open palm against his face, tipping him over before stepping between us. “I know you weren’t just about to lift up this lady’s skirt without asking.” She leans around me, craning her neck to take in the rest of my dress and the door it’s still currently wedged into. “Let’s get you free first.”
After a little bit of maneuvering—and help from Curtis—I’m fully inside. The width of my skirt takes up the bulk of the free space between the counter and the first shelf of stuff available for purchase. I do my best to be careful as I walk, but I still take out a few items as I go.
Curtis and his girlfriend don’t seem to mind.
“That dress really is stunning.” Lily picks up the train, looking over the smudge left from where it got stuck in the door. “Probably won’t take too much to clean it up.”
“That’s what I was going to tell you.” Curtis tips his head toward the back room. “You got any spare clothes back there? She doesn’t have anything to wear besides this.”
Lilly gives me a soft smile. “Let me go check.”
An hour later I’m wearing a pair of Lily’s yoga pants, a T-shirt emblazoned with the logo of their favorite crab shack in this town—because it has all-you-can-eat crab legs on Wednesday nights—and a pair of hot pink sneakers. I’m also one wedding dress and one engagement ring lighter.
Curtis was even nice enough to give me part of my money in cash—instead of just a check—so I’m able to finish the trip to Wyoming relatively seamlessly. If you considerdriving fifteen hours straight, wearing hand-me-down clothes and chugging energy drinks seamless.
The sun is coming up as I pull into the Bradshaw estate. Just entering Deidre’s property makes me feel better. Like maybe everything will be okay.
I’m not sure it’s true considering I don’t have a job or a place to live—two facts that were much more upsetting six hours ago when I still had the energy for emotions. But right now, I’m running on fumes, and the only thing that matters is finding a bed to collapse into.
I park in front of one of the many garages and use the code Deidre gave me years ago to let myself inside. I’ve been here plenty of times to visit. Even though my relationship with Tobias ended, my friendship with his mother didn’t. We’ve stayed in touch over the years. Remained close enough she was a guest at the wedding I should have never agreed to.
Not that our friendship was the reason she was invited.
Clutching my purse—the only thing I have left of my own—tight against my chest, I quietly move toward the kitchen, hoping to find a little snack before taking a shower and passing out. But right as I enter the room that serves as the epicenter of the Bradshaw family, my feet stop working, pink sneakers squeaking at how quickly I stop.
Because Deidre’s house is not empty.
A familiar face looks up, seeming as shocked as I am to find us standing in the same place at the same time.
“Brooke.” Titus sets down the containers he was pulling from the fridge. His eyes skim up and down my body, taking in my disheveled state. Without commenting on it, he starts organizing all the items he’s laid out. “You hungry?”
I manage a nod as my throat tightens in a weird way. I thought he was going to ask why I’m here. What happened.Instead, Titus pops the lid on one of the containers and slides it into the microwave, setting a timer.
Then he turns to me, explaining, “My mom sent me here to pick up the leftovers she put in the fridge for my fiancée.” He gives me a lopsided smile. “I don’t think either of them will mind if I share them with you.”
I slowly edge my way up onto one of the stools lined down the gigantic island. “Thank you.”
It feels weird to be sitting while he’s making me something to eat, but I don’t know how to change that. I’m somewhat familiar with Deidre’s kitchen, but not nearly like Titus is, and it would take a while for me to find everything. So I just sit here, body feeling weirdly heavy with a weight I can’t quite identify.
In just a few minutes, Titus is setting a steaming bowl of what I’m thinking might be lobster bisque in front of me, along with a hunk of crusty bread and a glass of ice water. As I take a first tentative bite—unsure how my stomach's going to react to food—Titus crosses both arms over his chest, leaning back against the counter. “It’s good to see you.” He presses his lips together, pursing them before carefully asking, “How long are you staying?”
Now I’m shoveling in the soup, because itislobster bisque and it’s delicious. I’m hungrier than I thought—and distracted enough by the desire to cram as much cream and carb into my face as possible—that I don’t even register what I’m saying until I’ve answered, “I guess that depends on how long it takes me to find a job.”
So much for laying low and keeping my secrets close.
Titus is quiet for a minute, his head tipping to one side as he continues watching me. I nearly choke on a mouthful of water when he says, “I might be able to help with that.”
3
