Page 31 of Whisk Me Away
I loved spending my alone time at the bakery with my favorite music playlist blasting, but tonight, I felt so overstimulated that I only wanted peace and quiet.
But even as I sat here in the quiet, I couldn’t manage to shut off my thoughts. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that Brant was once engaged. Not only that but if my assumptions were correct, he was engaged to the beautiful redhead I saw at the station weeks ago.
I couldn’t tell you her name, but I could tell you that she was gorgeous. Her natural red hair was long, reaching the middle of her back, and she was tall. I remember thinking her legs went on forever. She had flawless skin and full pouty lips. I could totally see why Brant had wanted to marry her.
Clearly, something happened because Brant said she was in his past and wanted her to stay there, but I couldn’t help but wonder what exactly it was that happened. How long were they together before they called it off? Why did they call it off? Did he break off the engagement, or did she? Had he spent the last, who knows how long, pining after her if she was the one to walk away?
The questions flying through my brain were beginning to make me dizzy. I picked up my spoon and scooped another heaping spoonful of cookie dough, bringing it to my mouth.
Was I overreacting? It’s not like I’d caught them together or overheard him professing his feelings for her. I just wish he’d told me. I felt kind of silly knowing he’d given his heart to someone else. How can I know he’s capable of giving his heart to me if we ever get to that point?
I used the back of my hand to wipe away the few tears I hadn’t realized escaped my eyes.
The loud knock on my back door startled me so badly, I yelped and toss the spoonful of cookie dough I’d been holding. I sat stock still, holding my breath, trying to figure out who could be at my back door. For a split second, I wondered if it was one of those kids who'd broken in during the renovation process. Should I call Brant, just in case? I was preparing to pull up Brant's phone number when his voice called to me from outside the door.
"It's me, Peach. Can you let me in?"
I slowly slid myself off the counter and walked to the back door. I wasn’t sure I was ready to face him yet, but he was here, so there wasn’t much I could do. For a half-second, I contemplated pretending I wasn’t here, but the realization that he could see my car in the parking lot meant he wouldn’t give up if I didn’t answer. I sucked in a quick breath before giving in and unlocking the door. As soon as I flipped the last lock, the door pulled open, and there he was.
He'd changed out of his uniform and wore a plain black t-shirt that stretched over his chest and shoulders, showing clear evidence he spent time working out. The scruff on his jaw started looking more like a beard than a five-o'clock shadow. The Tennessee Titans hat he always wore was flipped backward, giving me the perfect view of his striking eyes. They reminded me of melted caramel. It's like he gets more good-looking every time I see him, even though I have no idea how that's possible.
The fire lit by anger that’d been coursing through my veins this morning was long gone, replaced with a deep exhaustion. I didn't have it in me to push him away tonight, so I stepped to the side and gestured for him to come in.
"Listen—"Brant started at the same time I said, "Look?—"
Brant tipped his head toward me in a silent request to go first.
I took in another deep breath before speaking. "I'm sorry. I've been a bit of a jerk the last few days when I had no right to be." Suddenly, Brant held his hands up as if pleading with me not to continue. I snapped my mouth shut and waited, and he paced the length of the kitchen.
After a few beats, he stopped wearing a path on the floor and met my gaze.
"Yes. The answer to your question this morning is yes. I'm sorry I haven't told you, but it was a rough time in my life, and if you haven't noticed, I'm not great at sharing my feelings. After everything with Olivia, I closed myself off and have never had a problem with it until a certain beautiful blonde swooped in and stole my parking spot at church."
I could feel the blush rising as I recalled the moment we met last year. I still felt so guilty for stealing his spot and not moving when he confronted me. Before I could apologize, he kept talking.
"Olivia and I met in college and dated for a few years. I believed at the time I loved her, and maybe, to some extent, I did. After we got engaged, something felt off, but I chose to ignore it. I knew that one day, I would be taking over as the Sheriff, and all she wanted to do was talk about the possibility of moving somewhere else. My home is in Ashwood Falls. My family is here, and the job I've grown up working towards is here. I should have seen it coming. I should have known small-town life wouldn't be enough for her."
I gave Brant a sad smile and nodded, encouraging him to keep going. It would take some time to process everything he was telling me right now, but I needed to let him get it all out first.
"I came home from work one day, and Olivia had her bags packed, waiting by the front door. I hadn't noticed the guy sitting in the driver's seat of her car when I walked up the drive. She looked me in the eyes, slid the ring off her finger, and placed it on the entryway table. She picked up her bags and told me she was moving. She got her dream job and met some guy who could give her the life I'd never be able to,” Brant's voice was void of all the emotions I would have expected from him when sharing this story.
He didn't sound angry or hurt. His voice was matter-of-fact like he was sharing the weather forecast for the week.
"It took me a while to get over that, and once I did, I was convinced I didn't need anyone else in my life to complicate things, and that's how I've lived for the last couple of years,” he resumed his pacing.
After a few minutes, and I was sure he was done, I slowly approached him, standing in the path he was intent on making across my kitchen.
I flung my arms around him when he was within a few feet of me. For a few seconds, he stood still, unmoving, before wrapping his arms around my shoulders and pulling me close.
I wasn't sure how long we stood like this wrapped around each other, his head resting on top of mine, when he finally pulled back. The tears I’d been battling to keep at bay had won their fight, quietly coating my cheeks. I was crying for Brant and the things he must have felt, for me and what that meant for the feelings I was developing against my better judgment. The sheer volume of emotions coursing through my body made it nearly impossible not to succumb to the tears currently flowing down my cheeks.
I dropped my arms. "I'm so sorry that happened to you, Brant. It's so awful."
“Don’t cry, Peach. I just wanted you to know,” Brant placed a light kiss on my forehead before steering me toward the door.
"It's been a long day for both of us, and I know that was a lot of information to drop on you all at once. Why don't you head home, and we can talk again soon. Once you’ve had time to process?" If I wasn't mistaken, there seemed to be a glimmer of hope in his caramel eyes.
"Okay," I confirmed with a quick nod.