Chapter 5

Carly

Have I even been here an hour? Because it feels like ten years of torture and I’m already wanting to leave. It’s so much worse than I thought. There’s no way I could have prepared for this level of concentrated onslaught. It’s like my parents held a meeting with these guys and briefed them but ended up doing it all wrong.

Because as much as I try to remind myself that they’re just being nice, they’re all so insufferable. One bragged about the boat he just bought ten seconds after my mom introduced him to me. Another kept sweeping his hair back in a way that would be sure to show off his watch, like some kind of deranged hand model.

It only made me think of that quick flash of Braden’s strong wrist and how much cooler his watch had been. Braden always had a knack for picking nice things. The best of the best without being flashy.

I think there are eight of those future husbands here in total, but I lost count. In my current state I couldn’t remember any of their names, or even pick one of them out of a lineup if my life depended on it. They merged together into one, horrifying creature that seemed destined to devour me.

For a second I thought I might be free, but one returned. It wasn’t the boat or the watch guy. What was he into? Oh, he was the tennis player. Maybe won something in college? It was like he was spewing out his entire life story in as short a time as possible, one big accomplishment after another. It was kind of pathetic and I started feeling sorry for him on top of my rising anxiety, and for a second I thought I might cry, which pissed me off.

When he put his arm around me like we were already an item, something quietly snapped. Reminding myself they were also pawns in my mother’s game, I didn’t tear his face off like my revved up brain was telling me to. I disentangled myself with some excuse about needing to freshen up, and managed to walk calmly out of sight.

I’m not calm anymore. I’m just about hyperventilating. So mad at my mother I could scream, but as usual, at war with my emotions because she’s just trying to do what she thinks is right.

I’m pacing blindly on the front porch, dodging the hanging swings and potted plants. It’s a huge deck but I’m eating up the boards as I try to work off my feeling of impending doom. On my second turn, I almost run right into another man. Now they’re following me?

“Oh my God, it’s just you,” I breathe, never so glad in my life to see Braden.

“It’s just me,” he says, concern radiating from his blue eyes. “I know you’re not okay.” He steps closer and grabs my hand, intertwining our fingers. It’s the most intimacy he’s ever shown me and I… don’t hate it.

“I literally want to scream,” I say, and we both laugh. Even this small expression of humor makes me feel much better. What an odd day, with the oddest of allies coming to my rescue once again.

Without another word, he pulls me to one of the porch swings, never letting go of my hand. We sit, and he pulls me onto his lap, which is unexpected, to say the least. He hands me one of the swing’s pillows. “Scream,” he says. I just stare at him in response. He senses my confusion and continues. “You need to let out your feelings, I’ll make sure no one hears you, Carly.”

“But, what if someone sees us sitting like this? You don’t think that’ll raise some flags?” I ask, I barely have my sentence out before he replies. “Let me worry about that, now let it out,” he says again, handing me the pillow and moving both his hands to wrap around my waist. I like this possessive side of him, but I’m worried it’s only showing up because he saw me with the menagerie of men my mother brought in today.

All of that makes me want to scream even more, so without another word, I lift the pillow to my face and let it all out. I am shocked by how long I can scream for, by how much anger I had let build up inside me. I only stop when I start to feel Braden shaking with laughter beneath me, which makes me laugh too. I lower the pillow and lean into him as we continue laughing. I feel so much lighter, all because of him.

After a few moments, we settle, and I look up at him. “Thank you, this made me feel a million times better.” His gaze locks with mine and before I know it, he’s leaning down. “Tell me if you want me stop, Carly,” he says firmly. I reach up to his cheek and that is enough for him to continue. He crushes his lips to mine in a way that is near feral. He is all consuming as his tongue dances with mine, taking and tasting and exploring. I’ve kissed a few other men before, but no one has ever made me feel this way—like I want more, like I never want him to stop.

His hands roam my body caressing from my back to my legs, never staying in one place for long like he wants to touch every part of me at once. I shift so I straddle either side of his thighs, hoping to get as close to him as possible. He takes the hint and moves his lips from mine, nipping and licking down my neck to the top of cleavage. It feels so good, I already know I am soaked from just his kisses. I can feel him hardening beneath me and has he continues to tease my chest; he begins swirling his hips beneath me. It feels so good, and I can’t restrain the moan that comes out of me.

That seems to snap us both back to reality and he pulls away from me, but continues to hold me to hip, his palms spread across my ass. “Carly…” he says looking into my eyes. Now he’ll go back to his customary coolness towards me and I’m not sure I can take it. “I need to stop because I want more of you and I don’t think the first time I taste you, feel you, and am inside you should be on your parents’ porch swing.” Oh… I was not expecting that. I thought his attraction was fleeting, but perhaps he does want me as much as I want him.

I nod as I lift off of him, but he pulls me back for another kiss, this one shorter but no less passionate than the first. “Later,” he says. I nod again before racing through the house, hoping no one notices how long we’ve been gone or how disheveled I’m looking.

On the way to the large backyard, I run into my father. Great. Perfect timing.

Dad is hauling out enough racks of ribs to feed an army.

He gives me a big hug without using his spice coated hands, then waits for me to congratulate him on buying out the local meat supply.

“Met anyone interesting?” he asks as coyly as possible.

I give him a dark look. “You too?”

“Hey, what’s wrong with wanting my baby to be happy?” he booms, going back to seasoning the ribs.

“Nothing, Dad,” I mutter. You could ask who might actually make her happy, though, instead of deciding on your own.

The clouds have cleared just in time for everyone to enjoy the sunset as it sinks below the mountains on the other side of the resort. We all ooh and ahh and talk about how much better everything is up here, while my mother flits around making sure we all have drinks. If I didn’t know her better, I’d swear she was trying to get me a bit tipsy so I might get wine goggles where her choices are concerned. Just in case, I go to the bartender she’s hired for the evening and order a nonalcoholic spritzer.

No sooner do I have it in my hand, than Goober number one, or, Tennis Goober, as I’ve named him, hurries to my side. Watch Goober looks defeated and slinks away, too slow to nab my attention. I get a stab of guilt at thinking of these poor pawns this way and apologize for not remembering his name.

“Oh, it’s no problem,” he says. “It’s Ted. Ted and Carly has a nice ring, doesn’t it?”

Oh my God, he’s worse than I thought. He tries to take my hand, but it’s the one that Braden was holding grasping and I snatch it out of his reach. Instead of looking hurt, he looks irritated, like I’m withholding something that belongs to him. I manage to ditch him and run into the guy who has a boat. I don’t even bother asking him to tell me his name again, because of the door it opened with Ted.

Instead, I stand there trying not to die of boredom while he explains how long he struggled to choose whether or not to get tan or white leather seats for the boat.

“I would have totally chosen tan, too,” I say, looking over his shoulder and spotting Braden with my brother over by the grill. Instead of being engrossed by the manly art of cooking meat over an open fire, he’s looking in my direction with a dark scowl on his face. With my fake smile in place, I look back at the boat guy, who’s also frowning, though not as intensely as Braden.

“I chose white, though,” he says, outing me for not listening.

“That must be so pretty,” I say, appeasing him. Someone tries to pass us and he takes my elbow, moving me a step out of the way.

My eyes shoot to Braden and sure enough, his scowl is darker than ever. His whole body seems tense. I’m sure it’s just left over from our interaction on the porch swing, but I kind of want to tease him about, see how serious he was about what he said about… later. I lift my hand and pat the boat guy’s wrist, faking a laugh, to see what reaction this elicits. As soon as my fingers land on the guy’s arm, Braden takes a half step forward, hands clenched at his side.

I step back and so does he. Poor boat guy doesn’t seem to understand why I’m laughing when it turns out he’s talking about recently having a run of bad luck with his stock picks. I feel bad but am finding this new occurrence over by the grill far more interesting.

I almost crack myself up, but don’t want to torture the boat guy any longer. Excusing myself, I start up a conversation with the watch guy. I grab his hand and hold it up close to my face, gushing about how great the vintage piece is. He has to tell me everything about it, immediately. He positively glows and starts droning on about the history of Swiss watches, all while I keep Braden in my peripheral vision.

The first two weren’t a coincidence where he happened to be scowling while glancing my way. He’s definitely pissed. Which has to mean what he said earlier is true. He wants me, and he’s jealous.

And I kind of… like it?

Not the fact that he’s about to storm over here and dump this guy in the pool, possibly ruining his vintage watch, but the fact he’s having those feelings for me. There’s no denying it. Braden is barely holding himself together over there, like a caged beast just about to give that final bit of effort it takes to break free and rampage.

I wonder why he doesn’t just come over and rescue me from this never ending lecture on leather bands versus metal, and then, what kind of metal makes the best watchband? Seriously, why is he over there fuming when all he needs to do is stride over on those muscular legs and take me away from all this.

But then I remember that my entire family is around and could blow up this whole thing before it even really starts. They have no idea Braden and I are finally exploring our mutual attraction, that deep down I’ve always known he was the only man for me, which is why I’ve never truly been with anyone else. If he made a move, Matt would feel betrayed, maybe enough to kick his ass for what he considered taking advantage. Braden’s hands are tied, and I’m stuck spending the evening with the goobers.

Up until dinner, I keep up my little game of testing what will make smoke come out of Braden’s ears, and then grow tired of it. I don’t want him to be miserable, not when he spent so much time making sure I was all right after my mother’s meddling nearly sent me into my first, and hopefully last, panic attack. And the way he’s been looking at me in between glaring at the guys, is giving me all sorts of feelings I’ve never had before.

As soon as I’m done with the meal, I give a big, showy, yawn and say goodnight to everyone still gathered around the pool, ready for whatever else my mom has planned.

Heading inside, I take one last look at Braden, who’s staring straight at me. Not angry now, but almost feral, like he wants to devour me. Like he’s just about ready to break free of his cage.

And I really like that. Way too much.