Well, there went the idea that she might’ve been trying to set him up. As he pulled into a parking spot toward the back, since all the others had been taken, Braydon tried not to be disappointed by that fact.
A minute later, Braydon was stepping into the air-conditioned diner, the sweet smell of fried foods making his stomach growl. His eyes had barely adjusted to the dim lighting when he was greeted by Rachel Talbott, her eyes wide and her grin just as big as she looked at him. She wasn’t subtle about the way her gaze raked him from head to toe. Considering the woman was known to do the same to all his brothers, Braydon didn’t think anything of it. Despite her incessant flirting, Rachel was harmless.
“Have you been working out?” she asked him sweetly as she led him through the restaurant.
“Not more than normal,” he said, thinking back to Sawyer’s comment. Was it that obvious?
“You’re lookin’ good, sugar,” she told him, letting her arm brush his as she stopped in front of a table in the back.
Braydon’s gaze slid down to see his mother sitting in a booth, her face downcast as she studied the menu. She didn’t look up at him, which was surprising.
“Mom,” he greeted her, nodding his head to Rachel in a gentle dismissal.
“Hey,” she answered, peering up at him briefly. “What sounds good to you?”
Okay, yeah, she was acting strange.
Braydon slid into the booth across from her. He didn’t bother with the menu that Rachel had placed on the table for him. He knew what they had to offer. He’d been coming to this restaurant all his life. During his time away, he had realized just how much of a creature of habit he had become. The same restaurants, the same bars, the same type of women . . . Up until Jessie.
Braydon shrugged off the thought as he watched his mother. Now was not the time for him to get all introspective. He should’ve been more focused on what his mother was up to. Or whether he’d just become paranoid in recent months.
Or maybe just overly hopeful.
“How’re you?” Braydon asked, trying to make conversation with the woman, who looked like she was ready to bolt out the door.
“Good,” Lorrie answered, her eyes meeting his for the first time.
“I’m glad you called,” he told her honestly, and those words changed his mother’s expression immediately. No longer did she look quite so eager to go.
“Everything okay?” she asked softly, her hands coming to rest on the top of the table.
“No. But I don’t expect it to be.”
Lorrie’s eyebrows furrowed; her smile faltered. “Talk to me. Are you thinking about leaving again?”
“No,” he assured her. “I’m not leaving again. I’ve decided to stay and figure this out. The time away was good for me though. I . . . I needed to be away from Brendon, Mom.”
Lorrie nodded in understanding. “The two of you never wanted to be apart as kids,” she began. “Did you know that I could never just take one of you somewhere? Brendon couldn’t tolerate being away from you. If you weren’t there for him to see, he would panic.”
“Seriously?” Braydon hadn’t heard that particular story, although he knew they’d been inseparable.
“Oh, yes. Taking care of two babies at one time was hard enough, especially when I had Travis, Sawyer, and Kaleb to contend with. But it was even harder because Brendon insisted on being with you at all times. Your father couldn’t even take one of you off my hands for a little while. He had to take both of you, or it resulted in Brendon throwing a tantrum.”
Braydon smiled at the thought of Brendon crying like a little girl.
“But we’re grown, Ma. He should know that this can’t last forever.”
“Can’t it?” she asked. “Have you ever given him the impression that you wanted otherwise?”
No, he hadn’t.
His mother reached out and patted his hand. “It’s gonna work out, Bray.”
Why did everyone keep saying that? And how did they know?
Before he had the chance to ask her those questions directly, his mother’s phone rang and Braydon watched as she lunged for it in her purse sitting beside her. Holy shit. She was jumpy all right.
“Hey, yeah. Oh, okay. Just a sec,” she told the caller. Lorrie looked up at him and smiled. “I need to take this phone call, dear. Give me just a minute.”
Braydon’s eyebrows lifted, probably touching his hairline based on his shock. He fought the urge to laugh his disbelief as he watched his mother slide out of the booth, snatching up her purse as she did. His mother, the woman who detested phones being used at the dinner table, was excusing herself to take a phone call. He was suddenly glad they weren’t sitting near a window or he’d have been tempted to look outside to see if pigs were flying over.