Brazing (Forged in Fire #2) (16 page)

“What’s wrong?”

Something had to be wrong for her to want to stop that heaven.

Her knees buckled and I caught her just before she faltered. “I’m just tired all of a sudden.”

Though it was cold outside, Tate’s brow was laced with sweat and she looked like she might pass out at any time.

“Let’s get you back to the house.”

I hunched over and picked her up. She let me and as much as I enjoyed carrying her around, it worried me that she hadn’t rebelled against it. Tate Halloway felt light in my arms and while I should’ve been grateful, the fact distressed me. Someone her height shouldn’t be this light. On the way back to the house, she closed her eyes and grew limp in my arms. I took a shortcut through the woods. Something inside fueled me on, making me walk faster than I ever had.

Something was wrong with my girl. I had to fix it.

“Stock!” I called, arriving at the house. Cami came out instead and immediately ripped me a new one for getting my handprints on the back of Tate’s shirt.

“You can’t leave evidence like this, Bridger. What’s wrong with her?”

“I don’t know. She said she was really sleepy and then just passed out on my way here.”

Tate moaned while we moved into the house.

“Get her on the couch. We’ll call Preacher.”

Chapter Sixteen

Tate

I blinked up at the ceiling to Bridger’s family’s house and decided right this second would be a very convenient time to die.

I wanted to die. For real.

I’d rather die than face Bridger and explain what happened. Or Cami and confess that I hadn’t been able to stomach a single bite of her… of her whatever it was she’d served for dinner.

Cami’s blonde head came into view first and I sucked in a sharp breath, deciding this was better of the two options.

“Are you okay?” she asked in a low voice.

My head spun, hot chills raced over my body and my stomach threatened to heave any second. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” she pointed out.

“But I am. I just… I’m really tired and I didn’t eat much today.”

“You’re tired and hungry? So you passed out in the woods with my brother-in-law?” Her blue eyes narrowed sharply on me.

Oh, geez. Did I look sketchy? Did she think I was trying to play Bridger?

I might not have been completely honest with him about… about my sickness, but I was so not trying to trap him by being all damsel-in-distress-y.

In fact, I was trying to do the opposite. I didn’t want him to feel stuck with me just because I was ill. But how to convey that to Cami without asking her to lie for me?

I threw that thought out immediately. I would never ask her to lie for me. My grandparents covered up for me, but because they were as weary about spreading the news as I was. Not because they didn’t want other people to know, but because I felt stressed out about other people knowing and they didn’t want to add anything to my recovery.

If you could call this recovery.

“I am… I’m… What I’m trying to say is that…”

“Is this about your food allergy again?” Bridger came into view sporting clean hands and a new t-shirt. The lines of his face were pinched and his eyes hard and protective with concern.

Momentarily, I felt a little distracted by his glorious, possessive, I-am-all-that-is-man face. “My food allergy?” I asked in a small voice.

“Gluten or whatever.”

I gasped. “Yes!” This was a two birds with one stone kind of lie. “Yes, my allergy! I’m gluten intolerant. I have Celiacs.”

Cami’s eyebrows scrunched down over her cute nose. “Celiacs?”

“I, er, can’t eat gluten-based foods. Your pot pie, the crust, I mean, is a gluten-based food. Sorry, I didn’t eat much of it. I’m just hungry and really tired.”

Those two reasons weren’t even lies. I was hungry and I was more than exhausted. I should have gone home with Grams like she’d wanted. She could probably see the impending breakdown written all over my face.

“Oh, my gosh!” Cami squealed. “I had no idea! And Bridger didn’t say anything!” She used the back of her hand to hit him across the chest. He didn’t even flinch.

He did politely push her out of the way though and sit down on the couch next to me. His large body pushed hotly into my side and he settled his hand over my waist.

I wanted to melt.

But I was afraid I was going to throw up first.

“Can I get you something?” he asked gently.

“A can of coke, if you have it? Pretty please?”

“What kind?” he asked in all his southern-adorableness.

“Coke,” I clarified. “I really need Coke. The um, calories and carbonation will help.” Down South, all pop was referred to as Coke and then you had to clarify from there. It was rather inconvenient if you wanted an actual Coke. I’d had similar conversations to this one ever since I moved back down here for school.

He turned pleading eyes on Cami and she disappeared into the kitchen. I could hear her moving around and opening cupboards before she returned a minute later with a Coke over ice and a straw to make sipping easy.

She might not be able to cook worth anything, but she could sure deliver the fizzy beverages like a boss.

“Thank you.” I took the glass from her and struggled to sit up. Bridger helped me until I was at a good angle. I sipped slowly and tried to avoid both of their worried stares. Every once in a while, Cami would turn her concerned gaze on Bridger and it made my heart squeeze.

“I’ll take you home when you’re up for it,” Bridger offered. He hadn’t moved from his place by me. I loved the feeling of him next to me. I savored these sweet moments that he’d given me completely.

I had been afraid to tell Bridger I was sick before, but now I was downright terrified. I hadn’t wanted to make him feel an obligation before. And now that I knew he didn’t, the lies I’d been feeding him settled in my stomach like bitter rocks. I felt heavy and dirty from them.

But I couldn’t tell him.

I couldn’t.

Admitting to Bridger that I was sick, felt like damning whatever future I hoped to have with him. Which might have sounded silly and probably backwards. But Bridger had been weighed down with something himself when we’d first reconnected. I’d watched a heaviness lift from his shoulders over the last couple weeks and it physically hurt me to imagine chaining him to something else.

I didn’t know if his pain came from the loss of his parents or something else, but I had seen clearly that he hurt from something.

I didn’t want to make him hurt anymore.

I wanted to keep him from pain for the rest of his life.

If things took a turn for the worse for me, I promised myself I would open up to him. But this round of treatment was almost through and if my Dr. Masters was right with her estimation, I would be cancer free and healthy by the New Year.

I could wait that long. I could hide it from Bridger for just a little longer.

I just needed to get through the holiday season.

And it wasn’t like we were serious or anything. We’d shared two kisses. That was it.

Granted, they were rather earth-shattering, soul-shaking, life-altering kind of kisses. But there had only been two of them. He hadn’t even asked me to be his girlfriend yet.

Did guys still do that? Especially in college?

I didn’t know. I hadn’t dated anyone since I’d gotten sick the first time. That left my experience with this sort of thing seriously lacking.

Bridger leaned down and gave me a kiss on the forehead.

It was decided. Between this moment right here and the note that he’d shared from his childhood, I was well on my way to loving this man.

There was no turning back now.

Holy hell.

Bridger Wright, what have you done to me?

“Ready to go home?” he asked in a gentle voice.

I found it hard to speak through my new revelation, so I simply nodded and mumbled some kind of positive sound.

Bridger didn’t hesitate to scoop me up and wrap a blanket around me. I clung to his neck and marveled at how tiny I felt in his arms.

He waited for Cami to open the door for us before walking with a purpose down to his truck.

“Thank you for dinner, Cami!” I called out to her. “Sorry, I blacked out on you! I’m not usually this boring.”

She cracked a smile and some of the suspicion in her pretty blue eyes diffused. “Not a problem! You’ll just have to come back and try again. I’ll cook something, er, gluten-free this time. Do you like sushi?”

Oh, my gosh. Was she serious? She wasn’t really going to attempt sushi, right?

No.

No way.

“I hate fish!” I called back just as Bridger let me slide to my feet so he could open the door for me.

“You hate fish?” he murmured. He held an arm around my waist to steady me and then helped me, or rather, did most of the work to get me up into the cab of his truck.

“Bridge,” I grumbled, “would you eat raw fish that she prepared?”

He gave me a wide-eyed look while he tried to hide his laughter. “Would you?” I pressed.

“She’s my sister-in-law,” he argued. “I love her.”

I snorted. “Great! But would you let her feed you sushi?”

He threw his head back and barked out a loud laugh. His shoulders shook the entire time he walked around the front of the car and climbed into the driver’s seat. He waved to Cami and flashed his headlights at her.

“Where are your brothers and sister?”

“Stockton and Willa were trying to stay out of the way. And I suspect West went into hiding.”

I smiled but didn’t have anything to add. It was probably best that West was hiding. I was worried about the poor kid. Bridger was going to murder him.

He drove carefully through the dark winding roads of the Tennessee Mountains. I didn’t know if he was on the lookout for wayward wildlife, he was afraid I would puke all over his nice truck or because he was reluctant to let me go.

I chose option number three, just because I wanted to.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Tate?” he asked in a low voice. “Maybe you should see a doctor or something. This just doesn’t seem right.”

I nodded sleepily and fought a yawn. “Maybe I will.” Hell, I knew I would. I had an appointment scheduled for Monday.

“Really?” He cut a glance to me, hopeful and concerned all at once.

“I just don’t want to feel like this anymore,” I told him.
Understatement of the year.
“I’ll call someone when I get back to school.”

“Thank you.”

He didn’t look at me when he said that. He stared straight ahead and kept his grip firmly on the steering wheel. I realized then, with his distance, just how much my little fainting spell affected him. It was more than polite concern that made him want me to see someone. This man cared for me.

Deeply.

I read the note from his childhood and knew he cared about me back then. His chicken-scratched words were maybe the most precious thing I’d ever seen. But until this moment I hadn’t dared let myself believe that he cared about me still. At least not that much.

I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across my face.

“I’m not doing it for you, you know. I’m going to the doctor for me.”

He smirked. I could see it all the way from here. And it drove me crazy… in the best way possible.

“Sure you are,” he chuckled.

“I am!”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Bridger Wright, I have no idea who else I would be doing it for.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“So you’re not trying to make me happy? You’re not trying to appease all my fears and anxieties? You couldn’t possibly be doing this because I want you to?”

“You’re obviously full of yourself. And delusional. You poor, poor man.”

He reached over and slid his hand from my kneecap up the length of my thigh. I shivered against his seductive touch and his smirk grew into a grin.

“Alright, I’ll let you have this one. You’re going to the doctor for you. But I’m only giving it to you because I care about you too.”

A small gasp left my lips in a rush. “You do?” I whispered.

He pulled up in front of my grandparents’ house and shut off the engine. He turned to fully face me and took both my hands in his. “Tate, what I knew then, what I wrote in that note is still true today. You’re the prettiest girl in the whole wide world.” He leaned in and pressed a slow, sweet kiss to the corner of my mouth. “And I will always want to take away the sadness in your eyes.”

My heart thumped in my chest so loudly I thought he would definitely be able to hear it. I couldn’t stop myself from leaning right back into him and kissing him for as long as he would let me.

The cancer had depleted my energy and my treatments had drained me of whatever else there was left. But Bridger, being with him and the emotion he poured into me, filled me back up. He gave me something I couldn’t find on my own. He cradled me and held me and comforted me, even when he didn’t know what was going on.

Bridger was a good man. I had never completely understood how good until just now. And I wanted to keep him. Forever. And keep his goodness with me. Forever.

I was definitely falling in love with this man- hard and fast.

His lips had begun moving against mine in that perfect rhythm of lust and emotion. I suddenly had stores of strength to pull from. I leaned forward and clutched at his t-shirt. He leaned right back into me until his hands were hot against my back and beneath my sweatshirt. I gasped at the feel of those rough fingertips against my bare skin. They felt like sandpaper and desire and I wanted to feel them everywhere.

I had just decided that I could die kissing him and I would never be happier when the porch light flipped on and the front door swung open.

Ah!

My Granddaddy was going to
kill
him! And then me.

So it looked like we were both going to die thanks to kissing.

Ugh, self-fulfilling-prophecy! Why???

Both of us flew apart faster than the speed of light. We adjusted our clothes as discreetly as possible and I tugged on my hair in an attempt to smooth it out.