I’d left home the summer before he’d entered high school, and aside from coming home for a couple of days during Christmas break, I hadn’t made much of an effort to get to know him. I hoped that would change now that I was home and we were both adults.
Now I had all the time in the world, and I was motivated to make up for lost time and make my family a priority.
Having my heart ripped out and the life I’d envisioned for myself evaporate before my eyes, I’d had some time to realize that I needed to be grateful for the family I had. They were my cheerleaders and always would be, and I thanked God for that.
Down the hallway, I heard my brother cuss, and I smiled. Toby had been tinkering with the toilet for the past thirty minutes. “Now I see why you got this place for fifty cents on the dollar. I don’t think it’s been touched since it was built.”
“Right?” Toby was a complete smartass, and it took me awhile sometimes to know that he was kidding. Now he wasn’t kidding. The little house was like a time capsule. The 1950s house only had small upgrades in the flooring, and by the condition of the carpet, I was guessing the last renovation had been in the 80s. Being I had gotten such a great deal, I had a fairly good budget to make repairs and update nearly ever facet of the house so I could put my own stamp on it.
I just hoped Toby’s friend gave me the “family discount.”
“Hey, Brax just pulled up,” Toby called out.
The name Brax instantly conjured up images of a cute dark-haired boy with beautiful green eyes and a bright smile. A boy I thought was cute even though he was so many years younger than me, and who also happened to be my brother’s best friend since they were in elementary school. On occasion, when my parents left for a night of bingo, I’d be stuck looking after the two. I always complained to my parents that it hadn’t been fair. Not like it had been tough. The boys had played video games and ridden bikes in the big dirt pile behind Old Man Johnson’s place.
The last time I’d seen Brax, he’d been about fifteen…and I’d been nineteen when I had left the small town of Maple Creek for Arizona. As a loud knock sounded at the front door, I tried to envision the man Brax had become. Visions of a cute, boy-next-door type made me grin.
Hopefully he didn’t remember the days I hadn’t been entirely nice to him, especially when I hoped he’d give me a great deal on the renovation.
The moment I opened the door, the smile vanished from my lips.
Wearing a sleeveless black t-shirt, dark, low-riding jeans that hugged athletic thighs, and scuffed work boots, the tall, tattooed man standing on my porch looked nothing like the boy I remembered.
I swallowed past the lump in my throat as my gaze slowly crept up his impressive frame to find myself staring into familiar green eyes that contrasted fiercely with his dark hair. I had been right on one count—Brax’s eyes were just as beautiful as I recalled.
“Mandy, welcome home,” he said, a huge smile on his face. Taking a step toward me, he extended his hand.
“Brax, it’s been a…long time.” My voice broke as I shook his hand, liking the feel of the calluses against my palm. Having worked in an office since graduating, I was used to men with soft hands. There certainly wasn’t anything soft about Brax, except for his smile…
“By my count, it’s been nearly seven years,” he said, his gaze shifting over me. Damn, I wish I’d worn something nicer than yoga pants and a stained, formless t-shirt. And I had just thrown my blonde hair up in a ponytail. Thank goodness I had put on some mascara and blush, so at least I didn’t feel like a complete mess.
“You look great, Brax,” I said. That was a vast understatement. Time had been incredibly kind to Brax Mitchell. Who knew he’d grow up to be a chiseled hottie with killer cheekbones and long eyelashes?
“Thanks, so do you,” he replied, and to my chagrin, I saw he had dimples as well.
I put a hand to my messy ponytail and smirked. “Now you’re just lying to make me feel better. I’m a wreck.”
“You look amazing,” he was quick to add. “You always do.”