Breaking Brent Part 24

"I don't see why not," Cada said as she slid from the stool and took Jason's hand that was offered.

"Masa?"

Peyton looked from Hayden to Masa, who sat rooted to her seat. Hayden's lowered voice had taken on a seductive tone.

"I don't think that's such a good idea."

"It's just a dance, darlin'," Hayden said in the voice that had made more than one Millbrook female melt over the years. Peyton couldn't help but smile a little to herself. Masa should know better than try to refuse. Hayden Kiel rarely took no for an answer, especially when he had his mind set on something-and it seemed he had his mind set on dancing with one Masa McCready.

In the end, Masa slid her hand into Hayden's and Peyton watched both of her cousins take the dance floor with the Kiels. She wondered if it was a coincidence that the band started in a slow subtle tune just as the couples took to the floor. It didn't really matter. She needed to quit putting off the inevitable and retreat to the walls of the office and finish the paperwork that had been piling up for days on end.

She moved from her resting spot behind the bar and walked toward Wade, who was inspecting the crowd and watching for any problem that might arise.

"Hey, think you can handle this for awhile?"

"I don't see why not." He never looked at her as he spoke. He kept studying the crowd and rolling his always-present toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other.

"Just holler if you need me," she said as she walked around him and ducked under the divider.

"Will do," he called as she started her descent down the darkened hall that held the restrooms, stockrooms and her office. She moved to the side when a group of women exited the bathroom and made their way back to the main room. They giggled and talked among themselves and never seemed to notice her presence. Typical. She was invisible.

146.

Chapter Twenty-Five.

The music was loud, the crowd even louder, but Brent paid no attention to either. His attention was focused on one thing and one thing only-finding Peyton. Scanning the area behind the bar revealed Wade and a young frazzled-looking blonde who seemed to be in over her head, but no Peyton. Brent felt bad for the little blond. It was hard to tend the bar at Big Jack's on a Sat.u.r.day, especially during the summer.

Everyone wanted a cold drink, a cool place and plenty of excitement. Big Jack's offered just that.

Brent kicked himself for losing sight of her. He had watched Jace and Hayden waltz Masa and Cada onto the dance floor. Seen Masa give Hayden more than one warning about his hands and where they belonged and where they didn't, and then looked up to see Peyton talking to Wade. After that he had lost her. He walked steadily across the dance floor, slid smoothly onto the leather barstool and brought his chest against the wooden bar. He clasped his hands and waited for either Wade or the little blond to come his way.

He silently wished Wade would stop and say h.e.l.lo and then take his order. Making small talk with Wade for a minute would give him the chance to casually ask about Peyton's whereabouts.

"Evenin', Brent," Wade said as he popped the top on Brent's preferred bottle of beer.

"How you doin', Wade?"

"Can't complain." One thing Brent had forgotten about Wade Vaughn-he wasn't into small talk.

"Is Peyton around?" He waited for a questioning or intrigued look from Wade-he didn't get either one.

"She's in the office. Paperwork." Lifting his thumb, he motioned to the back of the bar. Brent knew the office was back that way. Past the restrooms and the storage room was a red door marked Private and behind that door he would find what he was looking for.

"Thanks."

Wade lifted his hand in a wave, almost, and grunted a goodbye. Brent took his time. He measured his steps and avoided almost everyone he knew there. It was a small town with only one watering hole so it wasn't hard to run into someone you knew or someone who knew you.

His feet grew heavier the closer he got closer to the red door. The door to the ladies' room flew open and two giggling females emerged. Each one of them more drunk than the other. One smiled shyly his way and the other blew him a kiss. He smiled and continued on. The slight boost to his ego unburdened his steps considerably. He raised his fist to knock and then lowered it. What the h.e.l.l am I going to say? He didn't actually have a game plan. Plans never went as expected so he usually just went with his gut, which at the present moment was tied in knots.

Better just to bite the bullet and get it over with. Quick and dirty. He groaned a little at the thought and knocked on the door, hoping that the noise of the wood rapping would cover the m.u.f.fled sound from his throat.

"Come in."

He turned the k.n.o.b and entered the office. He noticed her instantly. Among the clutter of paperwork, some in files and some not, some on the floor and some on the desk, Peyton reclined in a battered green chair that may or may not have been from the early seventies. The nicest thing he could say about it was she looked good sitting in it.

"Hi." He probably should have said more but nothing came to mind.

"Hi." She smiled, almost, but it was full of questioning confusion.

"Uh...I'm not interrupting am I?" He pointed to the stacks of paperwork in front of her.

"No. I was just trying to catch up."

"Oh, well, I can do this another time if you're busy."

"What are you doing here, Brent?"

"I need to talk to you." While he spoke, he closed the door behind him, shutting them both inside, and rested his frame against it.

"About what? I think we said all we had to say to each other years ago. In this very office if memory serves."

Memory served all right. This was the scene of the original crime. He hadn't forgotten that fact-he just didn't want to remember it. "Carter came by to see me today." That was the best way-lay everything out on the table.

"Did he?"

"Yeah, he told me the two of you had called it quits." They both stared at each other and Brent could tell Peyton was working her next sentence over and over in her mind.

"So that's why you're here? To see if he was telling the truth? Well, he was. We called the engagement off. We're friends now it would seem." She tossed the pencil to the desk, relaxed further into the beaten chair and focused all of her attention on him. "Did you come by to gloat? Did you come by to see who was the next in line? Did you want to throw your hat in the ring? Oh, wait a minute...you've already had your turn, repeatedly. While you thought I was still engaged." Her cynical tone and hard stare told Brent he needed to get to the point and get to it fast before Peyton's temper took over her rational side-if she even had one at this point.

"I don't want to be the next in line."

148.

"Well, thanks for telling me. Now I really have a lot of work to do." She stood and moved to the door and started to turn the k.n.o.b and push him out-just as he had done to her.

"I want to be the only one in line." That was the truth. No holds bar. No stepping around it. He wanted Peyton for his own. Brent saw her take a deep breath, close her eyes and start to speak.

"Sorry. You were saying?"

"I don't want to date you." Stunned. She looked stunned. Brent figured the look on his face matched the one on hers. Then she laughed.

"I tell you what, today has been the day for everybody to just let whatever they have rolling across the front of their brains come straight out of their mouths. It must be something in the water, I don't know."

"I didn't mean for it to come out that way. It just came out." Rubbing his hands over his face did nothing to relieve the heat he felt pouring from it.

"That happen a lot?"

"No. I'm usually much better at this."

"At what? Insulting me? Lowering my self-esteem? This? This what?" He could see her temper flaring. He could see it in her eyes, in her body. h.e.l.l, he understood. He would probably be p.i.s.sed at him too.

"I'm sorry. s.h.i.t. I'm not good at this kind of thing. I never was. You know that." Again with the blurting. Oh well, it couldn't get any worse than it already was.

"What do you want? I've had a rough enough week already and I don't need you to make it worse by telling me you don't want to play house with me or that you only want me when you can't have me."

"What? What are you talking about?" Brent moved to take her in his arms, where she needed to be, but she side-stepped him.

"That's what you said to me. That night. In this office. Right after you f.u.c.ked me against that d.a.m.ned door."

"I never just f.u.c.ked you and that's a terrible way to describe what went on between us."

"It's the truth though. Tell me something, all those times you told me you loved me and that you wanted me, were those just the words you chose to use while you were doing whatever it was you were doing? What is it? When your d.i.c.k goes hard does your brain goes soft and the only words that come to your mind are sweet nothings you don't mean?"

"I meant everything I ever said to you and then some."

"Oh, I believe that. Tell me something, did you start messin' around with me again because I was engaged, or so you thought? Was it all about the conquest? Were you trying to get back at Carter?"

"Carter had nothing to do with what happened between me and you. And I wasn't messin' around with you."

"But that was part of it, right? Part of the appeal? To see if you could still have me."

149.

"Stop with that, okay. I said that a long time ago and I didn't mean it to begin with. I don't even remember saying it."

"Well, I remember it. I remember everything you said to me that night. You broke my heart. Does that do your ego any good?"

Brent saw the tears form and glisten in her deep eyes. He knew that as soon as she realized the tears were about to fall she would retreat because she didn't want to be seen as weak, as vulnerable-as a sappy girl. He crossed the room and, despite her protests, took her in his arms.

She didn't sob. She didn't really cry. She stood there in his arms and let the tears fall as they may.

"I never used to cry." Her voice vibrated his chest-as well as other parts. He shut his eyes against the feel of her body against his own. This was neither the place nor the time, but he couldn't help it. His body controlled itself when he was around her. That was one of the reasons why he chose to stay away for so long-he couldn't control himself when it came to her.

"There's nothing wrong with a few tears now and then." He pulled her closer to him and tucked her head beneath his chin. He loved the way her body fit his-thigh to thigh, chest to chest and heart to heart.

"A few tears? I could deal with a few random tears. I've turned into a regular sprinkler system."

"This last week or so has been rough on you. It's normal to cry."

"I've cried over you a thousand times." She pulled her body from his grasp and stared into his eyes.

"I'm no better than those girls I used to make fun of."

"You're not like any of those girls."

"Yes, I am. More than you know. I wanted you to miss me."

"I did."

"I wanted you to want me back."

"I did."

"I wanted to make you jealous. I wanted you to hurt like I did."

"I was and I did. Look, I don't remember what I said that night four years ago. I know I hurt you because I didn't want to get hurt. I watched Willa take Chase to his knees because he loved her so much. I knew, knew, that I loved you a thousand times more than Chase loved Willa, and if she could bring that much grief to him when she left I couldn't imagine what would happen to me if you ever walked away."

"So you walked away first."

"I did and I'm sorry for that."

"You wasted four years we could have had together because of a what-if."

"I wasted four years with you. I don't plan on wastin' four more."

"What?"

Brent looked into her dark, wide eyes and saw all her questions swirling in their depths. He had an answer for them all. "I meant what I said when I said I didn't want to date you. I've dated you. I'm through 150 with dating you. I'm through with the getting-to-know-you part. I know you, Peyton. I'm done with the going home at night alone and getting into an empty bed."

"You haven't been going to bed alone. You went home with Kelly Cantrell a week ago." She sniffed a bit and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. It shouldn't have made him smile but it did.

"You noticed, did you?" He was rewarded with a scowl and a chuckle fell from his throat before he knew it did. "We've already discussed this, as I recall. I may have gone home with her last week, but I'm going home with you tonight and tomorrow night and the night after that."

"You're awful sure of yourself, cowboy."

"Yes, ma'am, I am." He tucked a wayward strand of hair behind one of her delicate ears and let his hands linger.

"You think I'll just let you waltz back into my life after what you did to me?"

"No, but I know you'll give me a chance to prove I'll never let you down or break your heart again."

He rested his palm on her cheek and tipped her face up toward his own.

"Now why would I do that?"

"Because you love me." He bent down and took her mouth. He was gentle and kind and caring with her lips-something he hadn't been with her feelings all that time ago. His lips brushed over her once, then twice before he felt her open for him. He could have taken the kiss then and there, but he waited. He wanted her to know something first.

"I love you, Peyton. I always have and I always will."

"If you hurt me again-"