Chapter 36
Hayden
The next morning, I stood in front of the mirror, straightening my collar then sighing when it seemed determined to flop flat again. I started to unbutton it, ready to give it another iron to hopefully transform the cotton button down into something crisp and classy looking, when Hunter walked into my room.
"Going for the Disco Stu look?" he said with a smirk, flicking my half-opened shirt, but I just knocked his hand away. "Don't you need more chest hair, or any for that matter, to make that look work?"
"Piss off."
I dragged the ironing board back out of the cupboard, wincing at the rusty groan and then plugged the iron back in.
"Ironing…" Hunter followed me into the lounge room and nodded slowly. "You are going all out for this barbeque."
"Jamie's mum is already ringing wedding bells around Brock, so I need to come across as a likely contender," I said, pressing the steam button and hearing the iron hiss before laying the shirt down on the board.
"Because of this whole fake date thing?"
He cocked an eyebrow, looking at me meaningfully.
"To throw Majorie off the scent right now, but…" How the hell did I say this to a brother that wanted the exact same thing? I took a leaf from Hunt's book and just opened my mouth and blurted it out. "Maybe one day I'll be meeting them for real, as Jamie's partner."
Hunter's mouth tightened, but he nodded and then disappeared into his room, making me think he was having a sook, but he returned with another white shirt.
"You're never going to get that shirt to look sharp." He reached over and rubbed the fabric. "It's made from a really soft cotton. This one will do the trick."
He passed it over and I could feel the difference immediately. I turned off the iron and then pulled the shirt on, buttoning it up and then rolling up the sleeves. Paired with a neatly pressed pair of chinos, I felt like I looked smart but casual, like a serious contender for Jamie's hand.
"Why the hell are you helping me?" I asked, raking my hand through my hair and straightening up the strands. "Or have you formally given up?"
Bloody hell, let it be that , I thought fiercely.
"Nope." That slow smile told me everything I needed to know and none of it was good. "I went to the pub last night?—"
"You what?" My hands stopped mid cuff roll. "I told you that Jamie and Millie…" I shook my head. "What happened to the meeting with Billy?"
The smug bastard just grinned.
"Got it done early and then went and apologised to Jamie."
Apologised… It was the least he could do, but in some ways I wished he hadn't. If he was fucking up, then Hunter was no threat. That was an ugly thought, one that'd never occurred to me before. There were plenty of girls who tried to catch his eye rather than mine, but it'd never mattered.
Because they weren't Jamie.
"So you're gonna take her on a date?"
His grin got wider at my pathetic attempt to sound casual. I wouldn't have fooled anyone, let alone my own damn twin.
"Monday night, so knock her parents dead tonight, Hay Bale." The prick messed up my hair until I drove my fist into his ribs, forcing him to dance backwards. "Because I'll be taking our girl out tomorrow, trying to do it right this time."
I wanted to talk about this, argue. Fuck, getting him in a headlock and punching him until he saw my way of thinking like we had as kids all felt like great ideas, but the buzz of my phone alarm told me I needed to get going.
"Good luck," I said with a shrug, because there was one crucial difference between us. The world came and laid itself at Hunter's feet, whereas I was used to working for things.
"What does that mean?" I shot him a wave as I walked out the door, not looking back for a second. "Hayden? Hayden!"
Hunter wasn't my focus, Jamie was and so I drove around to her place, racing up the steps, keen to see my girl, but instead I walked straight into chaos.
"Jamie…"
Where was my confident girl? This wasn't the usual calm, competent Jamie I was used to seeing. Her bedroom was a mess, her entire wardrobe scattered over every surface, but that was just a symptom of what she was going through. Jamie was stepping over piles of clothing on the floor as she held up one garment, then another against her chest, staring into the mirror.
"Everything OK?" I asked warily.
Her reflection stared back at me, so I caught the moment when her eyes narrowed slightly, then her focus shifted back to the dress before tossing it away.
"I've got nothing to wear." The words seemed to be extracted forcibly from between her teeth.
"Girls always say that," I said, then pointed to the floor. "But the evidence says otherwise."
Her gaze hardened.
"OK, I don't have anything to wear that won't get me reamed out the minute I walk into my brother's backyard." Her hands went to her hips as she stared at the floor in growing despair. I'd seen Jamie mad, sad, and bad, but never like this.
Broken.
I didn't want to be a fake boyfriend right then. I wanted to be a real one that protected her from all of this. I sucked a breath in and then moved closer.
"You know we don't have to go anywhere." Her eyes rolled up to meet mine and I felt a brief flare of hope. "We can stay right here." I put my hands on her shoulders, rubbing the points. "Climb into bed and see what we can come up with to amuse ourselves."
She wanted that, wanted me, I could tell in the way her mouth softened from a thin line to her lips gently parting. Part of me was pumping my fist internally in celebration, but any victory I might want to celebrate didn't last long. Whatever devil dog was gnawing at her guts sank its fangs deep again.
"I can't." Her brows creased and she stared up at me, begging me to understand. "I can't, Hayden, no matter how good that idea sounds. If I don't go… If I blow this off, she'll be calling within the hour." Did Majorie hear the fear in her daughter's voice when Jamie spoke? "If I don't answer, she'll get one of my brothers to drive her over here, and then she'll start knocking on the door. She'll call a locksmith and con him into letting her in or worse… She'll call Brock and have him…"
Her words were coming so fast she was forced to stop talking and just suck a breath in. I'd never felt so bloody hopeless. How could I protect her from this, from her own damn family? How could I protect her from the ghosts that haunted her own mind?
"I—"
"Can't." I finished for her, forcing myself to smile. "I know. I mean, I may have really, really wanted you to say yes to that idea, but I've got a job today. Your perfect fake boyfriend is reporting for parental deflection duty." My focus shifted then back to the mess of clothes. "What about this?" I asked, holding up an old band t-shirt. "You're always wearing that."
"A t-shirt with a hole in it?" She poked a finger through one of the small ones around the neckline. "I want to keep Mum off my back, not give her an aneurysm."
"This?" I asked, holding up another t-shirt that was in better condition.
"Stained," she said, pointing to the faint brown shadow of where she'd spilled coffee on it.
"How about?—?"
She bent down, grabbing shirt after shirt and then started tossing them on the bed.
"Too old, too stained, too boxy, too form fitting." Jamie dismissed each one in turn. "Too masculine."
"So what about this?"
I held up a cute little strappy top I remembered all too well. My tongue had stuck to the roof of my mouth when she wore it around to Mum and Dad's.
"Shows my tits off too much."
"I remember…" I muttered.
"Oh, you noticed, did you?" she asked, the faintest trace of a smile forming.
"Sporting a boner under my parent's dining table was a really uncomfortable experience I didn't think I'd be having this late into my twenties." I shook his head. "So yeah, not that top. What about this?"
It was a white button up much like mine, though tailored to fit a woman's frame, not a man's.
"That's the shirt I wear when applying for loans or shit like that." She plucked it from my grip and tossed that on the bed too.
"OK." Me suggesting things was getting me nowhere. Jamie knew what she wanted to wear. She made that decision every damn day without input from anyone and I needed to remind her of that. I sidled up, wrapping my arms around her. "If we were going to Mum and Dad's today, not your brother's, what would you wear?"
I felt her stiffen against me.
"I can't?—"
"Just show me that outfit first before you say no." I kept my tone light. "Doesn't commit you to wearing it. Just show me."
Jamie moved slowly, and I barely concealed the sense of satisfaction that rushed through me as she leaned down and picked up a pair of cutoff shorts from the floor, then another white shirt.
"Probably… this."
It was so completely her. The cotton fabric was covered with delicate embroidery and pin tucks in the bodice that made it feminine but the material kept it light and casual. It would sway around her as she moved, and yet the semi-translucent fabric would hint at the banging body beneath it. The shorts had been worn soft, the denim well broken in, so she'd be comfortable.
"That's what you're wearing then."
"But—"
"You can put it on or I can." I stared at her, daring her to argue. "Choose the latter, please."
"I can dress myself," she said and then she took my breath away. The new clothes joined the others on the bed as she wrenched her shirt up and over her head.
Fuck…
I think I mumbled something to that effect as her bra and all that bare skin appeared. Her lips twitched as she caught me staring, but rather than respond, she pulled the top on and then shimmied out of her sleep shorts and into the denim ones. A highly skilled stripper couldn't have held my attention better than Jamie did right now. Putting on those clothes seemed to do more than just cover her. My girl was back. Her fingers flicked down her front and then she smiled
"Should we get this shit show on the road?" she asked.
I shook my head and then thrust out my arm.
"Hey, how bad could it be?"
I was just about to find out exactly how bad things were with Jamie's family.