“Holy crap. Is he okay?” she asked, her words rushed, concerned.
“Yeah. And I think that’s the fuckin’ problem.”
A pregnant pause ensued, followed by, “You called me in a panic because there’s nothin’ wrong with Brendon?”
“Well, yeah,” Braydon admitted, realizing now how fucked-up he sounded.
Jessie’s chuckle made Braydon smile. It always made him smile these days. But with Braydon’s worrying about and trying to tiptoe around his twin, the tension between Braydon and Jessie had intensified. Their relationship wasn’t deteriorating, but he could sense they had some lingering concerns they needed to address. He was ready to take things to the next level, get married, move in together, and spend every waking moment with her, but they still had Brendon to worry about. Jessie still worried about Brendon too, and according to her, she didn’t want to rush things, didn’t want to push Brendon to the breaking point.
Braydon had tried to assure her that his moving in with her wouldn’t break the guy, but even he hadn’t been so sure that wasn’t the case. Didn’t mean he wasn’t ready to take the leap anyway. He was prepared to set a wedding date, get hitched, and start their lives together.
He looked over at Brendon’s closed bedroom door. Was that really going to be a possibility in the near future? Was his brother actually coming out of his funk the way Ethan had told him he was? Not that he had believed Ethan, but when his younger brother informed him that Brendon had stopped by the shop to chat it up, Braydon’s hope had soared.
Secretly he’d wished Brendon would have reached out to him, not someone else, but he knew there was still a rift between them. One that would take time to heal. But Braydon was ready. He wanted to get back to where they had been before.
Well, not quite where they were before, but perhaps somewhere in the middle. He knew it was possible, but he wasn’t sure exactly what it’d look like.
Since most of his issues revolved around Brendon, he had a sneaking suspicion that his worries were about to be assuaged.
“Did he say where he was?” Jessie asked.
“With Cheyenne.”
Jessie squealed and Braydon had to pull the phone away from his ear momentarily. When he pressed it against his face once again, he asked, “What the hell was that for?”
“Brendon and Cheyenne. I knew the two of them would figure things out one of these days. Did he say what happened?”
“No, but the fucker was smilin’,” Braydon grumbled, remembering the look on Brendon’s face when he mentioned Cheyenne’s name. He hadn’t seen his brother smile like that in a long damn time.
“Well, don’t push him,” Jessie told him. “Let them work through this on their own.”
Braydon nodded, even though Jessie couldn’t see him. He wanted to assure her that he wouldn’t, but he was too damn nosey. He wanted to know what their plans were. Were they serious?
“Give it time, Bray.”
Time? Did she really think it was that easy?
Could it be? Could the tiptoeing around finally be over?
Damn. Braydon wasn’t sure he was going to know what to do with himself if Brendon wasn’t making him worry.
Then again, the worrying would still be there until he knew that Brendon was stable enough for Braydon to move forward with his life.
Move forward.
Odd. He didn’t like the way those words felt on his tongue. Was he really ready to move forward and completely separate his life from Brendon’s? Was Brendon at the point where he was okay with that happening as well?
Oh, shit.
Was Braydon becoming the clingy one? And if that was the case … what the hell was he supposed to do now?
chapter FOURTEEN
When Brendon emerged from his bedroom, the house was empty. For the first time in months, the silence he was met with didn’t bother him, didn’t have him cringing in fear of being alone. Could’ve been the fact that the only person he could think about was Cheyenne and the reality that she was on her way over.
They had a date with a couple of horses today, and when he’d reminded her that morning, Brendon had been riveted by the pure pleasure that had lit up Cheyenne’s face. She was looking forward to riding, and at that moment in time, he had realized he’d do damn near anything to put that smile on her face. If he’d had his way, he wouldn’t have had to leave her, even for a minute. Granted, when he’d told her he was going to head home and shower only to find that Scrap—the little traitor—wasn’t ready to leave, he’d found himself immensely jealous of his little dog.
Yet, somehow, he’d managed to walk out the front door and leave her and Scrap for a short time.