The First Time Again: The Braddock Brotherhood, Book 3 (29 page)

Matty set his soda down. “Because a friend of mine gave me something for you.” He dug into the side pocket of his loose cargo shorts and removed a couple of plastic sandwich bags filled with seeds. He held them up to look at the labels Mamacita had written. “These are marigold seeds,” he informed Trey. “These are zinnias.”

He handed them to Trey. “Hey, thanks. Who do you know that gives you flower seeds?”

Matty had been tempted more than once to tell Trey about Mamacita, about Spoley, about everything. He didn’t know why, but out of all the adults he knew, his instinct was to trust Trey. Trey had helped his dad to quit drinking. Trey had gone to the family meeting Matty himself had missed. He’d heard Trey had also helped Dan find an AA sponsor. But Trey might tell Baylee Matty’s business, and Baylee might feel obligated to tell Jack Frost the reason for his curfew violations. With Jack Frost, it could go either way, and Matty wasn’t prepared to take the chance of being told he couldn’t help Mama until Des came home.

“A lady I know. Jasmine knows her too,” he said by way of explanation.

As she unloaded the dishwasher, Baylee glanced out the kitchen window to discover the old chicken coop was no more. She had to admit Trey’s instinct to hire Matty to help him had been a good one. Her brother appeared to have a decent work ethic. He didn’t complain. He followed Trey’s guidance and asked questions when he needed to.

Still, Baylee worried about Matty. He didn’t get enough supervision, especially the past few weeks with her dad in rehab. Lisa had packed the twins off to visit their father and his parents, and she was enjoying her few weeks of freedom. Baylee hardly saw her. Lisa made only a brief mention of Matty violating his curfew the last time they’d talked.

Trey and Matty were taking a break, chatting beneath the shade of an old tree. She saw Matty reach into one of the many pockets of his shorts and withdraw something. From this distance she couldn’t tell what it was. He held it up for Trey’s inspection and appeared to be explaining something. Trey took the item from him. From where she stood, it looked like a small bag.

Baylee frowned.

Trey stepped into the kitchen a few minutes later. “I’m going to wash up and take Matty home.”

He went into the bathroom, but the moment he came out, Baylee asked, “What did Matty give you?” She inclined her head toward the area where the chicken coop had stood. “Out there?”

“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”

“Try me.”

“Flower seeds.” Trey gave her a quick kiss. “See you in a bit.”

She watched from the door as he got into the Cayenne. Matty lifted a hand in her direction as they rolled down the driveway. Trey was right. She didn’t believe it.

Chapter Twenty-One

Baylee woke in Trey’s bed with a delicious sense of well-being, even though Trey wasn’t there. When he’d left the bed earlier, it had been to make coffee, shower and dress. He’d left an insulated travel mug on the nightstand for her and whispered that he was going to pick up Matty and he’d be back soon.

She sat up, yawned and stretched, then picked up the mug on her way to the bathroom. She stood under the shower and sipped her coffee, not even trying to wipe the smile off her face.

I’m happy!
For maybe the first time in her life she felt that way deep in her bones. She couldn’t help but think the tides had turned in her favor as well as her family’s. Her father was getting the help he needed. Matty was on the right track. The twins were behaving better now that her father took a more active role supervising them.

She had a good-paying job as Trey’s assistant, and the benefits were the cause of the smile on her face.

She’d almost stopped waiting for something to go wrong.
Almost.
She wanted to trust Trey completely, to believe they had a future together. He’d dropped a few hints about a long-term commitment, probably trying to get a read on where she stood, but she hadn’t encouraged him. Even though having Trey in her life permanently was exactly what she wanted, she told herself it was too soon. She’d jumped at the chance to be with him once, and she had no intention of repeating that disaster.

She was almost done attempting to style her hair when she heard Trey come in. The bathroom door was open and he slid in behind her, wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her neck. She leaned back against him and stared at their reflection, the dopey smile on her face. He lifted his head and grinned at her. His burnished blond hair and blue eyes complemented her brunette waves and light brown eyes.
We’re perfect together.

“Ready to go?” he asked, releasing her.

“I am. Where’s Matty?”

“In the barn. I told him to drag everything out of it so I can see what we’re dealing with. I know a lot of it’s junk we’ll have to get rid of. When we find a contractor to remodel the house we’ll see what he has to say about the barn, whether it’s worth saving or not.”

“We?” She gently poked him in the ribs.

He poked her back. “You’re not going to bail on me now, are you?”

“Hmm.” She pretended to think about it. “Probably not.”

They stopped in the dining room to pick up the items they’d need for their trip to Hendersonville. They had to drop off some FedEx envelopes and stop at the bank. Baylee had a list of office supplies and groceries to buy while Trey was at his final PT appointment.

As they stepped off the porch, Baylee said, “Let me get my purse.” She occasionally left it in her car simply because she didn’t need her keys or her wallet when she was at Trey’s.

Matty was wrestling a rusted roll of fencing material out of the barn. Baylee waved to him and got a half-hearted wave in return. He didn’t look too happy, probably because the work Trey’d given him wasn’t much fun.

 
“I can’t believe we’re going to New York again in two weeks,” Baylee said as they approached the Hendersonville city limits. “This time I’m going to the Guggenheim. And I want to go to Macy’s too. I know they have stores everywhere, but I want to go to the original one.”

Trey grinned. “You purposely booked one room this time, right? And you’ll bring that sexy nightie?”

“Yes and yes.”

“I thought of somewhere else we could go while we’re there.”

“Where? Giants Stadium?”

“No.”

“The Jets’ stadium?”

“They both play in MetLife Stadium now, but no.”

“Madison Square Garden?”

“Tiffany’s.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s somewhere else you’ve never been and because—”

A short siren sounded behind them, and Trey’s gaze went to the rearview mirror. Baylee turned to see a patrol car with its lights twirling right behind them. “You weren’t speeding,” she told Trey.

“No,” he said grimly as he pulled over.

Baylee squinted at the patrol car. “That’s not Justin, is it?”

“He better hope not,” Trey said. He opened his door and got out. Baylee did the same. Two deputies exited the patrol car. One of them addressed Trey.

“Trey Christopher?”

“Yes.”

“We’ve had a report about your vehicle, sir. Mind if we take a look?”

“A report about what?” Trey asked.

“Drugs, sir. Illegal drugs.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Trey said. His gaze clashed with Baylee’s and he knew he had two choices. Let the cops search his car and prove he had nothing to hide. Or deny them access and appear as if he did. He couldn’t overcome the feeling that everyone in this town, including Baylee, was waiting for him to screw up again.

He swept a hand in the direction of the Cayenne. “Be my guest.”

A deputy approached each side. Trey kept an eye on them as best he could, especially the one closest to him. The deputy donned a pair of latex gloves and ran his hands along the seat and the console, down to the floor mats, underneath them and finally underneath the seat. He withdrew a small plastic bag filled with round, white pills. “This belong to you, sir?”

“No. I’ve never seen it before.”

“This your purse, ma’am?” the other deputy asked Baylee.

“Yes, sir.”

He dumped the contents onto the passenger seat. He held up a similar bag. A look of triumph passed between the two deputies. “Sir. Ma’am. You’re under arrest.”

Baylee stared at Trey over the hood of the patrol car, in a state of shock. She’d been
handcuffed.
He stared back at her, his head moving back and forth in denial, but denial of what? There were drugs in her purse. Drugs in his car. Illegal prescription drugs. Painkillers. Surely the kind he’d once been addicted to. He was trying to communicate with her without saying anything. He wanted her to believe he was innocent. More than anything she wanted to believe he was innocent, but she couldn’t quite get there.

One of the deputies read her her rights, but she barely heard him. Like every other red-blooded American, she’d heard the Miranda warning recited so often on television shows she practically had it memorized.

“Do you understand these rights?” the deputy asked for the second time.

“I understand,” Baylee replied, knowing it was a lie even as the words left her mouth. She didn’t understand anything. About herself. About Trey. About their
relationship.

Had she been fooling herself all this time? Maybe it was drugs and not the physical therapy that allowed Trey to walk without a limp. She’d let herself believe Trey was a changed man because that’s what he wanted her to believe. Had it all been an act? Another man who’d lied to her and pretended to be something he was not, and she’d fallen for it. Fallen hard.

Damn Trey. He’d made her start to believe in that fairy tale, made her want her own happily ever after. What was wrong with her that the men she cared about fooled her so easily?

“Baylee—” Trey said softly.

She wanted to cover her ears because the sound of her name coming from his lips was like torture to her. She wasn’t going to listen to him anymore. She willed back the tears that threatened to blur her vision and glared at him. “Liar,” she spat at him as the deputy led her to the patrol car.

“Baylee!” Trey called again.

She didn’t turn around. She couldn’t look at him. He was now just one more in a long line of mistakes and foolish choices.

The deputy helped her into the back of the patrol car. Several of the concerned citizens of Hendersonville had stopped to watch the proceedings from their front stoops. She thought about ducking below the window where no one could see her.

Instead she straightened her spine and stared back at anyone whose eye she caught until they looked away.
There but for the grace of God go I.
That had been one of her grandmother’s favorite sayings, and for some reason the thought comforted her.
This could be you,
Baylee silently informed her gawking audience.
If you made the wrong choice, hung out with a former drug addict whose track record was littered with rebellious behavior and broken hearts. If you gave someone a second chance—

Her thoughts slammed to a halt when the other passenger door opened and Trey bent awkwardly, nearly folding himself in two to get his large frame into the back seat. Baylee squeezed herself against the door and pretended to find the curiosity on the other side of it fascinating.

“Hey,” Trey whispered. Baylee ignored him.

The deputy got in behind the wheel and started the engine. He put the car in gear and eased out onto the street.

This was for real. He was taking them to the Henderson County jail, where they’d be fingerprinted and booked. There’d be a trial, a conviction. No one would listen to her protestations of innocence. She’d been warned and she hadn’t listened. She’d foolishly believed she could for once throw caution to the wind, do what she wanted simply because she wanted to and because it felt good. Being good had gotten her nowhere. Now she’d pay the price for being bad.

“Baylee,” Trey tried again more insistently.

She felt like a big rock had been dropped into the pit of her stomach and it’d be there forever. Panic and fear of the unknown, along with a deep-seated disappointment in herself and in Trey, coated her like a layer of thick, gooey paint.

“Don’t even bother,” she said without looking him, shocked at how disgusted she sounded.

“Baylee, come on. This is a set-up.”

She continued to stare out the window as downtown Hendersonville swept by. “Of course it is.”

“Baylee—”

“Poor Trey Christopher. Hometown boy comes home all reformed to make good. Let’s all give Trey a second chance. He screwed up but look how he’s changed.” She turned to look at him, sure her eyes would burn a hole in him if they could. “Save it for the judge, Trey. I don’t want to hear it.”

Something faded out of Trey’s eyes. The laser blue clouded over and turned dark and murky. He set his jaw and shifted in the seat, turned to look out of his own window.

Baylee bit down hard on her lip. She’d hurt him, she could see. But wasn’t that how Trey had gone through life? Charming his way along, captivating everyone with his smile and his winning ways, knowing they’d be honored to be part of his golden circle. Hadn’t she? Twice. The experience had somehow scarred her the first time, like a small burn on a pinky finger that leaves a mark forever. Whether it was part of her conscious thought or not, she knew it was there.