Momma's Boy, page 5
The big four-wheel-drive truck had a massive extended cab. The backseat had more room than most cars’ front ones. He sat behind Taylor, wishing he’d pulled her into the backseat with him and made Tucker sit up front, but she was a woman, and he was raised that they always got the best of the options, no matter what they were. The fact that she’d sat in the back of the car yesterday had been hard for him to deal with, but he appreciated her gesture.
Within ten minutes they arrived at the fishing lake, which was really a narrow riverbed that flowed off the main lake. After another thirty minutes of checking the boat for supplies and getting it started, they were finally on the water, fishing poles at the ready.
“The sweet spot is just over here,” his dad called out as he steered the craft down a little stream. When he pulled up close to some fallen trees and stumps sticking out of the water, he killed the engine. “We’ll use the trolling motor now,” he said to Taylor, pointing to it so she’d understand what he was talking about. Bryson’s lips twitched, liking the fact that his dad was going out of his way to make Taylor feel comfortable.
“Why not use the big one?” she asked, shifting closer to the motor and inspecting it.
“Overkill. The trolling motor allows us to putter around without much force or noise.”
“Ahh, okay.” She looked to the side. “So where’s my fishing pole?”
“Rod and reel,” Bryson said, joining in the fun of explaining things. “Serious fishermen buy them separately.”
She frowned at him. “Er, why? Don’t they come already put together?”
He chuckled and kissed the top of her head as he leaned over to get some of the reels out. He spent several minutes talking about the different kinds of tools and tackle used to fish as he got hers ready. He even showed her how to cast it, doing it a few times using various techniques as she watched closely. “Now you try.”
She visibly swallowed as she took it from him. “Okay, but if it gets all tangled up or I throw it overboard, no laughing,” she said sternly.
They all laughed at that.
“You throw it in the water, you’ll get tossed in, too,” Tucker said, winking at her.
“Knock it off,” Bryson snapped. Was this asshole ever going to stop coming onto his girlfriend?
“He’s just goofing around,” Taylor said, catching Bryson’s mood. Then she looked at Tucker. “Try it though, and I’ll cut your balls off.”
His dad threw his head back and laughed. “Holy cow, girl, you do have some bite in you.”
“Yeah, well, you still have to bite the head off the first fish you catch,” Tucker said, smirking at her.
“Eww, gross. I’m not doing that!”
“It’s tradition,” his dad said, getting into the fun. It was a story they’d told all the women in their family the first time they’d come fishing.
And the thought of her being in his family just made his chest constrict. He hadn’t thought much about their future. Neither of them were in any hurry, but he had to admit he really liked the idea of her becoming a Reed.
“I call bullshit,” Taylor said, not even falling for it. “That crap might fly with other chicks, but … how do you say it? I wasn’t born on the turnip truck yesterday?”
Bryson laughed. “Not even close, baby.”
“Who the hell gets born in a turnip truck?” Tucker asked, smiling as he baited his hook and cast his line.
The ribbing continued throughout the next couple of hours, and when Taylor caught her first fish, she pretended to put its head in her mouth, causing the guys to all fall back in laughter. When he made eye contact with her right after that, he spotted something that didn’t quite make sense. It was faint, but definitely there. The instant it took for her humor to naturally subside it disappeared, but there was no denying it'd been there. Something deeper she’d been masking as if she’d reluctantly accepted whatever it was.
Ice shot through his veins in that moment.
Resignation.
She quickly buried it, and he did not understand or have time to analyze it. The others were still chuckling from her playful demeanor mere seconds ago, but even if they’d been focused on her, Bryson knew they wouldn’t have seen the flash of raw emotion she’d quickly displayed. He had a nearly uncontrollable need to fall to his knees and beg forgiveness for any and all wrongdoing he’d ever done to her. He didn’t know why he felt this way, but his father’s words from earlier rang in his ears, “…don’t let things fester.”
He worried it was too late for that.
Taylor was an emotional woman, and when she set her mind to something, he knew how stubborn she could be. It was part of the reason he loved her so much. Though it was a scary trait for her to have.
He knew there was no way they could wait to talk. Whatever she was feeling, he had to deal with it, and the sooner the better. She’d apparently taken things way harder than he’d ever anticipated, and he had a lot of fixing to do. He would. There was no other option.
Taylor was his world, and he couldn’t stand to see her unhappy, especially when it was his actions that caused her to feel that way. Didn’t matter that he hadn’t meant anything malicious by his intentions. She was his, and he should—and would—do everything in his power to make her feel better.
He’d start by getting her things after dinner tonight and moving her into his room.
What he should’ve done from the beginning.
Chapter Seven
Taylor washed her hands after applying fresh makeup to her newly cleaned face. She’d needed that shower something awful after the afternoon fishing trip. It had been a lot more fun than she’d anticipated it being, but there wasn’t anything fresh-smelling about stinky lake water, dirty bait, or slimy fish. She understood why the women at the reunion hadn’t jumped at the chance to spend the afternoon reeking in the sweltering sun.
But she’d had a blast. There’d even been times when she’d been able to forget the fight she’d been having with Bryson, and those moments had been more than refreshing.
Then she’d see him watching her, and it’d all come rushing back.
She slept like crap again last night. After crying herself to sleep, she’d had nightmares of being naked in front of his family, unable to speak, and even one where all her teeth had fallen out. She didn’t need a psychotherapist to analyze her dreams to know she was battling with insecurity. She’d known that long before sleep had finally taken her under. The reminder throughout the night did nothing to resolve those feelings, but she’d woken up and pushed ahead, doing her best to put on a happy face and engage in the family fun.
With someone else’s family.
She knew Bryson loved her, but what she didn’t know was if it was enough. If he loved her as deeply and as completely as she felt for him. She should’ve never come here. Before this trip, she hadn’t second-guessed anything about her relationship with him, and now all she could do was spin scenarios in wild directions and wonder how close to the truth they actually were. This wasn’t like her. Oh, she knew she could be hot around the collar from time to time, but this emotional mess? No, it wasn’t like her at all.
The only conclusion she could draw was that she was scared. Scared of the truth. Scared of what it’d mean for her relationship with Bryson. She’d had boyfriends before, but never had she felt anything like this.
On the flip side, she knew deep down that she was letting her emotions get away from her. Bryson had done nothing to make her feel insecure. She could see her gentlemanly man deferring to his mother’s wishes as nothing more than sheer politeness. But just because she knew she was reacting too personally to what had gone down didn’t mean she could turn off her feelings on the matter entirely. Even with the despair of last night, she’d had moments where she knew she was being silly. Then she’d rationalize her behavior and start the vicious cycle all over again.
Didn’t matter. There was only one more night here. She and Bryson would be leaving in the morning after breakfast and maybe then she could get a handle on her emotions. What that’d mean for her and Bryson she still didn’t know. One minute she felt they’d talk things through and everything would be fine. The next she wondered if she could live life with a man who didn’t put the woman he loved ahead of his mother.
And thinking in terms like that made her feel like a real bitch, which did nothing to help her random thoughts.
Sighing, she checked herself in the mirror one last time before venturing out of her lonely bedroom. The guys had stayed back to clean fish for dinner tonight, but no way could she spend the evening stinking of fish. They’d dropped her off on their way to the store to get ice for the fillets as they cut them. Deciding to get cleaned up had been a no-brainer, but now she’d be faced with a true dilemma—would she ride with Joanie back to the swimming lake or take her own car. Bryson had said she could ride with his mom, but the idea of being in a confined space with the woman—even if for a short while—did not appeal to her in the least.
But it would look weird if she drove herself back to the lake when she could easily ride with Bryson’s family members. There was no reason for her to invite any more discord between the two of them, so she pulled on her symbolic big-girl panties and made her way into the common area of the house in search of Joanie.
When she reached the end of the hall, she heard voices and slowed her movements. It wasn’t that she was worried about interrupting them. It was their tone that had her pausing.
“Joanie,” a woman gasped with a solicitous edge. “You better not let Butch figure out what you’re up to.”
Joanie tsked. “Please. He has nothing to do with this. It’s about Bryson and that tart he brought here.”
Taylor’s heart raced as she heard her boyfriend’s mother call her that.
“I know the truth of why he’s with her, and it’s because things went south with Ashley. He never talks about Taylor the way he talked about his college sweetheart. Now that girl was an angel.”
“Yeah, an angel that broke his heart a couple of years ago.”
“She knows she made a mistake.”
What? Taylor’s mind was now racing more than her heart was. Bryson had told her about Ashley. Just like she’d told him about her past relationships. What did that chick have to do with him—or his mother—now?
“You’re playing with fire.”
“Nonsense. He’s not serious about this girl. Oh, she’s pretty, but she’s not his everything. Only Ashley had him all tied up in knots. No other woman has ever had an effect on him like she did. When I ran into her at the grocery store a couple of weeks ago and she said she and Stephen had broken up, I knew it was meant to be. She even hinted at how big of a mistake she’d made breaking up with my son. I was all ready to invite her here this weekend, and then he brought that other woman.”
“Because she’s his girlfriend,” the other woman admonished.
“Because he couldn’t be with who he wants. Jeez, Marla, don’t you see? He has a chance to be happy again. Really happy. He still has the engagement ring he bought for her tucked in his sock drawer for goodness’ sake.”
Taylor stumbled back. Bryson had been engaged? He’d never told her that.
“I know my boy. He gave his heart to Ashley, and she’ll always have it. He’s too much of a gentleman to hurt Taylor, and I’m sorry she’s caught in the middle of this. I really am, but I’m not going to let some random hookup come between my son and his future wife. Once he realizes Ashley is free and knows the mistake she made, he’ll let Taylor down easy.”
She couldn’t see. She didn’t understand why until a silent tear slid down her cheek. She ruthlessly brushed it away. Could she believe this? Joanie had no reason to lie to the woman.
It made all her insecurities roar to life. Maybe it was some sixth sense that had picked up on what had really happened here, that could see what her eyes had failed to.
She needed proof, though. She needed to see if what Joanie had said was true, but deep down she knew.
Just knew.
Slipping around the corner, she darted up the stairs and into the bedroom Bryson had yet to invite her into. That knowledge burned even more now. It was filled with masculine things, dark wood furniture, plaid bedding. No photos or trinkets of a love he cherished with his ex were displayed.
But neither were any signs of his relationship with Taylor.
His dresser beckoned her, and she went right to it. The first drawer she opened contained socks. It was as if she instinctively knew where to look. She didn’t have to dig around long before her hand encountered an object. Her already broken breath caught as she grabbed it and pulled it free.
A little, black velvet box.
The world around her slowed as she opened it, the universe demanding she live every millisecond as if it were an eternity. She knew once she looked inside it would be the confirmation to her mounting devastation.
But maybe...just maybe there was a silver of hope it could all be a misunderstanding.
It wasn’t.
The simple solitaire sitting high on the thin gold band could be mistaken for nothing else.
She barely remembered putting it down and leaving his room. No tears came. Not this time. She was too shocked, too newly wounded for immediate emotion. When she got down the stairs and around the corner, she went into the living room where the women were now laughing as if they hadn’t just ripped her heart out so quickly she’d yet to feel the physical pain. They stopped when they saw her.
Joanie stood. “Oh dear. Are you okay?” She came quickly over to Taylor, who was too numb to shove her off.
“No. I’m not feeling well,” she said automatically. “I think I’m going to call it an early night.”
“Was it something you ate?” Marla asked, coming toward her.
Taylor gave a watery smile. “Maybe. Not used to all the grease down here.” Using the excuse dumped on her, she moved her hand to her tummy and rubbed. “You two go without me.” She turned before she could cry in front of them.
“Well, if you get to feeling better, come on out. You know where it is, right?” Joanie asked.
Taylor nodded over her shoulder.
“You ready to head that way then?” Marla asked.
Taylor heard Joanie’s acceptance and within minutes they’d left together. She listened as they drove down the road, only able to focus on what happened externally and not what went down mentally. When she could no longer hear the car driving away, she grabbed her bags, throwing her clothes and personal items into them as quickly as she could. Once Bryson discovered she wasn’t with his mom, he’d ask why. If he thought she was sick, he'd show up to check on her.
The last thing she wanted was to see him.
If she hurried, she would be out of here by the time he returned.
Because she was going home.
She had no idea what she’d do when she got there. Talk to her friends. Cry. She’d definitely do that, eventually. She was too busy focused on the task at hand right this second to let emotions screw that up. She just needed to get on the road first.
She knew she couldn’t avoid him forever, but she couldn’t think that far ahead. She just had to get out, focus on one thing at a time, and right now that was getting away from him and his meddling mother.
She tossed her bags haphazardly in the back and jogged to the driver’s seat, grateful they’d brought her car instead of his.
When she peeled out of the driveway, she still hadn’t breathed easily. She wondered if she ever would again.
Chapter Eight
Bryson pulled out the last fillet from the deep fryer and dropped it on the waiting paper towels. He’d have to hit the gym a couple of extra times this week after all the Southern fried goodness he’d consumed while back home with his family. Totally worth the extra hours he’d have to sweat it out.
When he heard a car pulling up, he glanced in its direction and smiled. He hadn’t gotten a text from Taylor saying she would just drive herself, so she’d apparently taken his advice and rode with his mom. He’d dropped her off an hour ago to shower after their trip out on the lake, and he already missed her. The more he thought about being with her tonight, the better he felt about everything. They'd clear the air and have some much needed alone time together. He didn’t mean sexually, either. He wanted to hold her in his arms and just be with her.
He quickly gathered their cooking utensils into the bin for washing later and carried the tray of fish to the food spread. They hadn’t caught nearly enough to feed everyone, so it’d go quickly. Before his family swarmed, he grabbed a couple of pieces for Taylor so she could enjoy the fruits of her labor and set the plate aside as he looked over his shoulder again.
His mom was walking toward him with his aunt, but no sign of Taylor. He took a couple of steps in their direction. When he was close enough he called out, “Where’s Taylor?”
Mom waved her hand, dismissing his questions. “She’s not feeling well, son. Her tummy’s not strong enough to handle the cuisine down here.” She winked and patted his arm as she tried to continue on past him.
Whirling, he grabbed her wrist before she got out of reach. “What?”
She sighed. “Taylor wasn’t feeling good. No big deal. She said she was going to call it an early night. I told her to come on out if she got to feeling better.”
He was digging in his pocket for his dad’s keys he still had before she even finished talking, then gave her a quick nod and started to turn away.
“Now, wait, where are you going?”
Gaping at her, he said, “Back to the house to check on her.”
“Don’t be silly, Bryson. She’s a big girl. She doesn’t want you hanging all over her. Let the girl rest.”
“I’m not going to hang out and have fun while my girlfriend is sick and alone at my parents’ house.”
“At least stay for dinner,” she said quickly. “Then if she hasn’t shown up, you can take her some food when we go home later.”
