My Last First Kiss Page 3

  “Brayden,” my mother said, her voice cutting through the confusion. “I’m sorry that you had to come all the way back here. I know how you feel about this place.”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “Don’t be sorry. I should have been here sooner. Way sooner. Why didn’t you tell me that you were sick? How long has it been?”

  “I didn’t want to bother you. I know how busy you are with work, and I know that your company can’t run without you. I didn’t want to be a burden. I thought… I thought I could handle it on my own.”

  “Cancer? You thought you could handle cancer on your own?”

  My mother pursed her lips and nodded once.

  I sighed and ran my hand over my face. There was stubble on my cheeks and jaw that I wasn’t used to. “You don’t need to worry about any of that anymore, Mom. Bella and I will stay here to take care of you.”

  “Brayden, you don’t have to stay. Just a quick visit would be more than enough. I have friends here in the hospital that will—”

  “Mom,” I said, unable to hide the anger in my voice. “I wasn’t asking. I’m telling you. We’re staying.”

  Her eyes flicked back and forth between mine as she studied me. She used to give me the same look when I was just a boy and she was trying to decide if I was lying about washing my hands before dinner or not.

  She crossed her hands over her stomach and looked away from me, back out the window at the still falling snow. “I’m happy to see you.”

  “Me too, Mom.”

  “It’s just a shame that it took me dying for you to finally bring your daughter to Alaska. To bring her to your home.”

  I wanted to say a lot of things to her as she continued to stare outside. But none of what I wanted to say would help anyone. It would only temporarily alleviate my anger and then leave me empty and guilty.

  She was my mother, and she needed me.

  And she was all the family I had left besides Bella, who deserved more than the time she had left with her grandmother.

  Chapter 4

  Rein

  My apron was a sticky, oil paint covered, blue and purple disaster. I untied it and carefully pulled it away from my hips, making sure it didn’t graze my jeans in the process. I hung it on one of the hooks on the wall of my kitchenette to dry beside the other four I owned that were equally as stained.

  After cleaning my brushes and palettes, my phone rang, and I answered it to hear Gracie on the other end. It sounded like she was somewhere where there were a lot of people, and music was playing in the background.

  “Hey,” my best friend said. “You almost done for the day or what?”

  “Yeah, actually. I’m just tidying up. Probably leaving the loft in five minutes.”

  “Want to come meet me for a drink at the Tavern?”

  I bit my bottom lip. Money was a bit tight with none of my paintings selling. I had budgeted well and knew I could afford all my meals and rent and bills without a problem. But going for drinks at the bar with Gracie might cut into some of my other luxuries, like being able to buy the coffee I liked and the soy milk to put in it. Those things weren’t cheap in Valdez. Still, a night out sounded good.

  “Yeah, I’ll be there in fifteen.”

  “Have you eaten already?”

  “Not yet,” I said.

  “I’ll order us a pitcher of sangria and some potato wedges. They’re on special. My treat.”

  Gracie knew that I was a starving artist. Her job at the yoga studio and the online classes she taught were filling her pockets well enough for her to be saving up to move away.

  “It’s okay, Gracie. You need that money for Cali.”

  “Stop. I’d rather spend it on you.”

  I smiled as I grabbed my jacket and flicked off the lights. “You’re the best, Gracie.”

  “I know.”

  She hung up, and I locked up the loft behind me. I bundled myself in my jacket and scarf and braced against the chilly night wind as I crossed town square. Nobody was out and about. It was ten past eight. By now, everyone was back at home, curled up next to their fire, and spending time with their loved ones. I didn’t have any of those, except for Gracie, of course. I still hadn’t quite processed how alone I was going to feel when she moved away. Somehow, I would have to find someone else in this tiny place whose company I enjoyed as much as hers.

  Seeing as how I knew practically every soul in Valdez already, that was going to be a tricky task.

  The Tavern was only three blocks down from the town square. It had the look of an old Bavarian lodge, with a sharp roof and planters in front of the windows that only bloomed in the short summer. For now, they were just covered in three inches of snow.

  I walked in through the front doors and unbundled. There were hooks to the right where all the patrons left their winter gear. I hung my coat next to someone else’s and stepped into the warmth of the place.

  It smelled like chicken wings, garlic, and beer. I took a deep breath and basked in it. I loved this place. It was cozy and filled with the sounds of laughter. As I passed other tables and made my way to where I could see Gracie at the bar, people called my name and waved hello. I gave them a quick curtsey in response, smiling shyly in the direction of those who called for me. Most were men. I wasn’t oblivious to the fact that I garnered a lot of male attention in Valdez.

  Gracie slipped off her barstool and met me in the middle of the restaurant. She put her hand on the small of my back like a protective sister and guided me back to the bar while shooting overprotective looks at any man who said hello to me.

  “Keep it in your pants,” Gracie said venomously. All she got in reply was more male laughter.

  “Relax, Gracie,” I said as we both sat down on our barstools. Gracie poured some sangria into the empty wine glass that had been awaiting my arrival. “They’re just being nice.”

  “They are not. They’re trying to hook up with you.”

  “Well, they’ll have to put in a lot more effort than that.”

  “Good. I worry about what will happen when I’m not here to fight them off.”

  I rolled my eyes and sipped the berry and citrus flavored wine. Delicious. “Nothing will happen. I’ll keep being polite, and they’ll keep saying hello. I just have to wait for someone else’s pretty daughter to grow up and take my place.”

  “Good luck with that. You’re the prettiest girl here by a long shot, Rein. I don’t think anyone will replace you until you’re in your seventies.”

  “Damn straight.” I giggled, and we tapped our wine glasses together to toast our youth.

  Our potato wedges arrived with a side of sour cream, and we both dug in. I hadn’t realized until I walked into the Tavern how hungry I was. The last thing I had eaten was a scone and a cup of coffee from Mr. Gallant’s coffee shop, and that had been over ten hours ago. The day had been a good painting day, and that usually resulted in a bad “eating or any form of self-care” day.

  “So,” I said, wiping my greasy fingers on my napkin. “How has the online yoga stuff been going?”

  “It’s good actually. Just this week, I gained six more members. They’ve been consistent, too, which is great. They’re all part of the same family. Sisters and mothers and cousins and what not. They joined together because they live all over the states and this lets them take a class together. Sort of.”

  “That’s really cool, Gracie.”

  “And good money.” She giggled.

  “You should try using that as an advertising idea.”

  “I’m so bad at marketing myself.”

  “No, you’re not. You market yourself around here all the time. You just need to figure out how to put that online, and I promise your business will take off.”

  Gracie gave me a weak smile and sipped her sangria. “You’re probably right. You’re always right.”

  “So take my advice.”

  “I will,” Gracie said. “I just… I want to be in California. But I don’t think I’m ready
to leave you. What will I do out there without you?”

  I put my hand over hers. “We’ll talk every day. I’ll come visit as often as I can. This is your dream. You can’t let me be the reason you don’t go for it. I won’t let you. You’re going to kill it out there in the big world.”

  Gracie reached for the pitcher and topped off both of our wine glasses. “And you’re going to kill it with your art.”

  “To our futures,” I said, and we toasted again.

  “And our past,” Gracie said. “Speaking of which, do you remember Brayden?”

  I had to force myself to swallow my wine instead of spitting it out in surprise at hearing his name. It had been a long, long time. “Brayden Hennie?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Of course, I remember him.” Even though I’ve been trying to forget him for a whole decade.

  “Well, Nikki Peterson was at my yoga class this morning. She says he’s back in town.”

  “She saw him?”

  Gracie nodded.

  “What the hell is he doing back here?”

  Gracie shrugged. “I asked Nikki the same thing. She said she couldn’t discuss it with me and that if I wanted to know, I’d have to ask him. She’s always keeping everything under lock and key, that girl.”

  “She respects people’s privacy,” I said.

  “Yeah, and one more thing,” Gracie said tentatively. “Apparently, he has a daughter now.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “Brayden Hennie has a daughter?”

  “Apparently,” Gracie said, returning her attention to the half-eaten plate of potato wedges. She dipped one in the sour cream and then dragged it around the plate to collect stray pieces of cheese and bacon before popping it into her mouth.

  “Who would have thought?” I asked.

  “Do you think we should go see him?”

  I looked up at my friend sharply. That was a good question. I didn’t know if I wanted to see him again. It had been so long, and didn’t know if I wanted to reopen that particular can of worms.

  “I wonder how much money he has,” Gracie mused, now using the tip of her finger to collect chives and bacon. “He opened his own business, right? An oil company or something?”

  “Last I heard, yeah.”

  “He was always meant for more than this place could give him. I bet he drives a fancy car and wears a fancy suit. Bet he fills it out nicely too.” Gracie winked.

  I stared down into my wine glass.

  Gracie leaned over and rested her hand on my knee. “Hey. I’m sorry. That was insensitive. I just meant he always wanted to get out of here and make something of himself somewhere else.”

  “I know. It’s okay. It was a long time ago.” I finished my drink and slapped on a smile. “It might be nice to see him again. I bet a lot has happened in ten years.”

  At least, a lot had probably happened for him in ten years. I was pretty much in the same spot, doing the same thing, talking with the same people. I was doing everything he wanted to run away from.

  “Then you should go see him.”

  I shrugged. “He won’t stay long, I’m sure. I’m surprised he’s back at all. He took off as soon as he had the chance and never looked back. Even if I wanted to see him, he’d probably be back on a plane before I got around to it.”

  Gracie sighed and fished a strawberry out of her drink with her fork. “Forget about Brayden Hennie. Let’s pretend I didn’t bring him up and just have a good night, okay? I don’t have class in the morning, and I haven’t danced in over a month. That’s far too long, girl. You know me.”

  I laughed. “So that’s why you wanted me to come out? You wanted a dancing buddy?”

  “Duh,” Gracie said before spinning in her stool and gesturing at all the tables in the bar filled with couples or clusters of single men who kept shooting looks our way. “It’s slim pickings here, Rein. You know you’re my only dance partner.”

  “In that case, we’re going to need another pitcher of this stuff,” I said, waving down a waitress.

  Nights like this were going to be a thing of the past when Gracie moved to LA. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t buy my fancy coffee for the next week. Spending time with my friend and having a good night of dancing was worth way more to me than that.

  I also wasn’t too keen on the idea of staying sober. If I did, I knew I would spend the rest of my night thinking about Brayden Hennie and the last time I saw him. It had taken me a long time to put that behind me.

  Chapter 5

  Brayden

  My mother’s kitchen was exactly as I remembered it: a blend of yellow and turquoise straight out of a seventies Home and Kitchen magazine. Lace curtains trimmed the window above the ceramic sink, the tops of the kitchen cupboards were decorated with a variety of plants, and the black and white tiled floors beneath my feet made me dizzy.

  I pushed myself off the counter when the kettle started boiling and began preparing a cup of tea for my mother, who was currently lying in her bed reading a book to Bella. I had also fixed a sandwich, much to my own surprise. I wasn’t too skilled in the kitchen—I never needed to be in Florida. Meals were prepared for Bella and me regularly, or I ordered in. I didn’t have the time to cook with my busy schedule, and I wanted to make sure my daughter had a healthy diet.

  When the tea was ready, I carried it and the plate with the sandwich down the narrow hall to my mother’s bedroom. The walls were a terrible, muted blush pink, as was her bedding. When my father was alive, he had complained about it incessantly, but she never backed down and insisted the room be pink for her own mental happiness. Being the smart man that he was, he let her win every time.

  I placed the tea and sandwich on her nightstand beside the old analog clock I remembered from when I was a kid. She and Bella both looked up at me and smiled.

  “Hi, Daddy,” Bella said, grinning.

  “Hey, kiddo,” I said, patting her shoulder. “Mom, are you going to be okay here if Bella and I head out to get a few things? She doesn’t have proper winter gear, and we’re going to need some groceries.”

  “Of course, I’ll be fine here. I’m not dead yet, you know?”

  I scowled. “Don’t make jokes like that. They’re not funny.”

  “They’re a little funny,” my mother said stiffly.

  Bella slid off the bed and grabbed my hand. “Are we going shopping?”

  “Sort of,” I said. “It’ll be different than back home. We’re going to get some groceries and then grab you some winter boots and some snow pants. Go put your shoes on.”

  “Okay!” Bella chimed before hurrying out of the room and heading to the front door to get ready to go out.

  My mother reached for her tea. I noticed how her hand shook as she lifted the mug to her lips and sipped daintily. “She’s a good kid, Brayden. Sweet. Really sweet.”

  “I know.”

  “You’ve done a good job all on your own.”

  The compliment made me uncomfortable. “Thanks. We won’t be long, okay?”

  “Okay, no rush. I have a good book. Take your time.”

  Leaving her alone in her bedroom was harder than I thought it would be, even though I was just heading out for some quick errands. I tried to push the image of her frail arms and thin face from my mind as I joined Bella at the front door and began putting my own winter gear on. She needed help with her jacket, so I dropped to one knee and zipped it up to her chin, bopping her on the nose when I was done.

  “Ready to go out in the cold?” I asked.

  Bella nodded, so I opened the door, and we stepped out into the frigid Alaskan air and hurried down the covered path to my mother’s carport, which I had parked the truck under. I buckled Bella into the back and got the truck running.

  It didn’t take long to heat the cab up, and soon, we were setting off down Sixth Avenue toward the center of town, where I recalled there being a children’s consignment store across from the grocer.

  We stopped there first, and the cheerful sho
p owner, who thankfully didn’t recognize me, helped gather a couple items from her stock that she knew would fit Bella. I bought a pair of waterproof boots, furry pink ear muffs, snow pants, and some gloves. When my daughter was all bundled up, I thanked the shop owner, who waved goodbye as we stepped back out into the cold.

  We crossed the square and the statue of the polar bear. Bella pointed up at it as we passed. She was in awe at the size of the thing, which I suppose made sense. She was only four and barely taller than the middle of my thigh. The life-sized polar bear would have looked monstrous to her.

  When we got inside the grocery store, I welcomed the warmth. I stripped us out of our jackets and piled them into a shopping cart, then lifted Bella up and placed her in the seat in front of me. The cart was decked out like a little car, just as I remembered them being when I was a kid, and she was content to pretend to drive as I steered the cart around the small grocery store collecting everything we would need.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” a familiar deep voice said from behind me. “Is that the one and only Brayden Hennie?”

  Fuck. Who could this be? I froze with a can of diced tomatoes in my hand and turned to look over my shoulder.

  I stared at a man wearing an oversized plaid jacket, jeans, and winter boots. He had a bit of a belly on him that surprised me. His thick auburn beard touched the top of his chest, and he lifted a meaty right hand to stroke it as he narrowed his green eyes at me. “Looks like Florida turned you into the pretty boy you always wanted to be.”

  I chuckled. “Emmett Rosen. You’re two times bigger than I remember.”

  Emmett patted his belly and turned to the side to give me a better view. “Gotta stay warm somehow, right?”

  I laughed and stepped forward. The two of us exchanged a one-armed hug and slapped one another’s backs in the same way we used to when I lived in Valdez.