Bad Boy Blues - Jessica Lemmon Page 0,38
mean who?”
“She left the Cove last week. Job interview. Her life is in Chicago.”
“And you let her?” Ant looked almost pissed off.
“You expect me to tie her up or something?”
“She didn’t go back to him, did she? The guy who was a dick?”
“You know plenty.”
Ant shrugged, not offering up how he’d learned about Elliott’s past. Brady assumed Lou had something to do with it.
“No. Nothing like that. He’s out of her life.” And she’s out of mine.
Somber, Ant nodded. “Sorry, man. You two were good together.”
Just what Brady didn’t need to hear. He set the beer aside. Good as it tasted, he didn’t want it. “She was only here six weeks.”
“Love hits you when you least expect it.” Ant strode along the rows of furniture. “I have a new rocking chair. A butcher’s block on wheels. Been making cutting boards, too.”
Alarmed by what Ant had said, Brady froze in place. Brady hadn’t said anything about love. “What are you talking about?”
“Cutting boards?” Ant asked, holding one up.
“No, you asshole. The other thing. I never said I was in love with her.”
Ant had the audacity to laugh. “You didn’t have to, man. It’s all over your sad face.” He stepped forward, slapped Brady’s cheek in a challenge, and put up his fists.
“You’ll pay for that.” Brady lifted his own fists, and they danced around each other.
Brady rushed his friend and was able to pin him. But when Ant swiveled and shot his knee out, Brady lost his hold. Before he knew what happened, Ant had reversed their positions.
“Her being gone,” Ant grunted, his arm over Brady’s throat, “has made you rusty. What are you going to do about that?”
“She’s trying to move on.” Brady gritted from between his teeth as he twisted his buddy’s arm. Ant scrambled to keep his hold, but Brady won out, pinning Ant again. “I’m letting her.”
“That’s dumb,” Ant said as his hat fell off his head.
Brady released his friend and swiped the sweat from his upper lip. He hadn’t come here to autopsy his relationship with Elliot. He’d come to tie up the final loose end so he could stop fucking thinking about her.
“I’ll take that one.” Brady pointed at the rocker. “Do you gift wrap?”
Ant, lying on his back on the shop floor, laughed.
“I love you, kid, but you’re a dumbass,” Gramps said as Brady hauled in the custom-made rocker.
Brady had endured a similar you-look-like-shit conversation when he’d arrived here after leaving Ant’s shop.
“I bring you a custom-made rocking chair, and this is how you thank me?” Brady grunted as he carried the heavy chair through the living room. Lila danced around his feet, having no idea how difficult it was for him not to step on her paws.
Once the rocker was in the corner, Brady swiped his sweaty forehead with the bottom of his T-shirt. “You’re welcome.”
He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was a little after six. Elli’s interview had been at four o’clock.
“Good-looking chair.”
“Enjoy it.” Brady grabbed Lila’s leash, and her tail whapped him in the leg.
“So about you being a dumbass,” Gramps continued. “Why’d you let her leave?”
“Well, Gramps,” he said as he clipped the leash to Lila, “she’s her own woman and makes her own decisions.”
“Hell, I know that.” Gramps followed him to the door. A hand landed on Brady’s shoulder. “Son, listen to me.”
Brady turned, despite wanting to flee the scene. Gramps stood on his front porch, squinting at the setting sun.
“Life is short. You know it. I know it, too.”
“I know.” Between them, they’d shared many losses. Brady’s grandmother, aka, Gramps’s wife. Brady’s mother and father, aka, Gramps’s son and daughter-in-law.
“Did you tell her everything she needed to hear before she made her decision?”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“You love her. Did you tell her that?”
Had he been talking to Ant? Had everyone lost their damn minds?
“She wants to be in Chicago.”
“That was the answer she gave you the night she was here, but you didn’t tell her how you felt. She didn’t have all the information to make that decision.” Gramps tapped his ear and explained, “Turned up my hearing aid. I heard everything.”
“Stubborn, old—”
“Runs in the family. To honor Elliott is to let her know how you feel when you feel it.” Gramps tagged Brady in the chest. “If you didn’t tell her you love her, either you’ve had your head in your pants, or you’ve been protecting yourself. I thought your job was to protect others.”
“I am protecting her,” Brady growled.
His