Perfectly Broken (29 page)

“Nothing. I was in shock. I had no idea.”

Reed looked through the crowd for Griffin. He had a mind to beat the hell out of the guy right now, to knock him on his ass again, to squash him like the worm he was — regardless how many times he’d saved Peyton. But Griffin was on the other side of the tent, in a line at the bar. It was probably for the best he was too far away. Fighting at the engagement party wouldn’t make such a great impression, if Reed had any chance to get back with her anyway. He reached for his aching neck. “Why are you letting him live in your house?”

“How’d you know that?”

Reed looked down, pain in his eyes. “I knew he wouldn’t tell you I came by.”

“What?”

“I came by a little over a week ago. I couldn’t take it anymore. I missed you.” He reached for her hand. “I had to see you. But when I got there, instead of seeing you, I found Griffin fresh from the shower.”

She gently rubbed his knuckles, never thinking he’d just show up unannounced looking for her.
No wonder he stopped calling me.
She knew it would sting if she ever knocked on Reed’s door and found Heather or some random girl inside. “He’s just staying at my house until he finds his own place. I’m sorry if he said it was anything more than that.”

Reed looked down at her fingers stroking his hand. He slipped his hand over hers and intertwined their fingers.

“Did you come alone?” Peyton asked quietly.

“Of course,” he said, his eyes turning soft, leaning closer to her, getting a glimpse of her cleavage, “but I want to leave with you.” Peyton blushed. “I like the dress, too.”

She gave a shy smile. “It’s new.”

“Did you wear it for me?” Reed narrowed his eyes as Griffin approached with a drink in each hand.

Peyton followed his eyes. “Don’t do anything crazy,” she warned and dropped his hand, just before Griffin arrived and handed her a drink. He took a seat on the other side of her.

The band suddenly stopped playing, and a hush came over the crowd. Peyton grasped her locket and focused her attention straight ahead, listening to Quinn’s parents say a few words, and then Bret’s. She tried to organize her thoughts for the toast she’d soon be making, all the while feeling the eyes of two men burning into her and each other. A few other family members spoke, then it was her turn. Peyton walked to the front of the tent.

“You’ve lost her,” Griffin whispered.

“I don’t think so,” Reed whispered back. “And don’t forget, you never had her.” He walked to the back of the tent, shaking out his hands, certain he would’ve killed Griffin if the guy kept running his mouth. He reminded himself he needed to focus on Peyton, not Griffin — just as Quinn had told him.

Peyton stood at the microphone, her knees shaky from Reed and Griffin, from the toast she was about to make, from the dress that barely covered her. She held a glass of champagne in one hand and twirled her locket with the other. “As most of you know, I’m a baker,” she started, “so I think in terms of recipes. I know all about good ingredients. I know them when I see them. And I know how to blend them together. It doesn’t happen by itself. It takes time. It takes work. It takes help.” She paused for a moment. “It takes
heat
.”

“Damn right!” Bret yelled out, and Quinn slapped his arm.

“I’ve known Quinn my whole life,” she continued. “She is a tremendous friend. She’s been there for me, frankly, in some really tough times.” Peyton smiled. “That doesn’t mean she isn’t crazy sometimes.”

Quinn curtsied, as the crowd roared in laughter. Peyton caught Reed’s eyes from the back of the tent and quickly looked away.

“But I love her. And I know Bret loves her.” Peyton twirled her locket again. “They have all the right ingredients — love, trust, laughter, heat, patience, forgiveness. They blend perfectly together. My Gram always said that people think marriage is a piece of cake, but they forget it takes a lot of time and just the right ingredients to make it.” The crowd nodded in agreement. “So when marriage gets rough,” she continued and winked at Bret, “and you know it will....” She paused and found Reed again. “Just remember you can have your cake and eat it, too — but only if you both stay in the kitchen and keep baking.”

Reed didn’t know what Peyton meant — whether it had anything to do with their own relationship, or what was left of it. Her words were confusing, too; she certainly hadn’t followed her own advice.
She left me.
Still, there was something hopeful, encouraging, about what she’d said and the way she looked at him.

Peyton raised her glass to Quinn and Bret. “Here’s to a lifetime of
heat
— in the kitchen, shower, hot tub, or bedroom!”

* * *

After lots of hugs and kisses, Peyton tended to her pie table then mingled with the crowd, always keeping in tight circles, making sure to keep a safe distance from both Griffin and Reed. But she could only keep her distance for so long. Griffin met her at her pie table, with drinks in both hands again.

She refused his offer this time. “Why didn’t you tell me Reed came to my house?”

“I didn’t think you wanted to see him,” Griffin said. “I thought it would just upset you.”

“That’s bullshit.”

Griffin’s eyes grew wide. “I guess I always just want to protect you.”

“I appreciate that, but I’m a big girl,” she said, her face softening. “I don’t always need you to protect me. I can take care of myself.”

“You’re right, but I guess I
want
to take care of you.”

“It seems like you want a lot.”

He stroked her cheek. “I don’t want a lot — just you.”

Peyton looked away and twirled her locket, seeing Quinn waving to her from the other side of the tent. “Your sister needs me.”

“She can wait a minute.” He slid his arms around her waist and held her in his arms. “Just promise me you’ll think about it.”

* * *

The bartenders stopped serving, and the band began to pack up. Peyton slipped out of the tent and into the moonlight, leaving behind the party winding down. She removed her shoes before walking an oak-covered path to a little bench down by the Mississippi River. She needed some fresh air, some space, some peace. It seemed impossible that two men – good guys with full knowledge of her flaws, the bad hand she’d been dealt – could both be interested in her.
It had to be the clothes
.
Dr. Lorraine was right
.

Peyton looked down at her hands, trying to make sense of her life. For so long she’d looked for someone else’s hand, the hand of a monster, as if finding it could somehow heal her. But she’d never truly looked at her own hands, or thought about them in any serious way — how they’d clothed her, fed her, tied her shoes, said “hello” or “fuck off” with one simple gesture.

And more than that, they’d fought for her life. They’d searched for a rapist. They’d buried her family. They’d run a successful business. They’d prayed hard and often. They’d loved and lost.

She knew they had more to do, at least she hoped so, like one day wearing a wedding band and cradling a child of her own. She wondered who’d be wearing the matching band and who’d be holding her hand in the delivery room.

“I saw your magazine cover,” Reed said. Peyton jumped slightly and turned around. “You looked beautiful.”

“How did you know I was out here?”

“I haven’t taken my eyes off you all night.” He took a seat beside her. “That’s not entirely true. I’ve kept one eye on Griffin.” They each took a deep breath and sat in silence, looking out at the water. “I can’t fix this if you don’t talk to me.”

He didn’t know what words to use or what could possibly be going on in her mind. He usually knew what a girl wanted — but not with Peyton, not this time. She was different than every other woman, different than the script he’d always followed, making her interesting and stunning and maddening all at once. He loved her for it, for how she made him feel, different than he ever had before, willing to follow a new script, a better one, one he’d write himself.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he said, grabbing his neck.

Peyton closed her eyes, breathing deeply, the wind blowing softly in her hair. She remembered sitting on a similar bench with Reed on their first date, both of them watching the Mississippi River weave and wind through New Orleans. It was a different conversation then — light, fun, impulsive, spontaneous — as the sun fell all around them.

But now the sun had set. And she was facing a choice. Of all the things that could have happened tonight, she never expected that.

Griffin had emerged out of nowhere. She felt stupid she didn’t see it coming — especially since Reed never missed a chance to warn her. Griffin was a safe choice. She and Griffin knew everything about each other: there would be no surprises, no secrets, no women coming out of the woodwork. She knew what she’d get with him — marriage, kids — all the things she and Reed never talked about. On paper, Griffin made perfect sense.

But life wasn’t lived on paper; it was lived on dreams, hopes, fears. And it often didn’t make sense — just like the beautiful twisted lines on her hands.

“I know I’ve got some seriously screwed-up family issues,” Reed said, “and that you and I have things to work out.”

The water was as murky as her own feelings. She thought about her own screwed-up issues, and how it took years of therapy to ever express them. And when she finally did — to a guy like Reed of all people — he handled them well. But she didn’t handle his issues well at all; she got scared and pushed him away, just as Dr. Lorraine said. But he didn’t give up. He returned over and over again, trying to remind her of his love, of who she really is, of who they are together. “I overreacted,” she said, reaching to fix her wind-blown hair.

Reed lowered her hand with his and moved her hair with his fingertips, tucking it behind her ear. “I should’ve been more open with you — especially after everything you told me.” He gently touched her scar.

“You can’t fix me,” she said.

“I’m still going to try. And if I can’t, I’ll share your scar with you.”

“But I’ll still be broken.”

“You’re
not
broken,” he said, searching her eyes. “You’re just under renovation.” Peyton looked at her hands again, considering the possibility. “I know we’re worth saving. We’re not broken. We’re perfect together.”

She breathed in the sweet smell of honeysuckle filling the fresh Louisiana air and heard crickets chirping their sizzling sound, wondering if the symphony of the South was trying to tell her something, to point her in a direction, to ease her mind. Reed put his hand in hers. She felt the same jolt of electricity and something else, too — something better.
Love
.

His hand — like her heart — held the answer the whole time. There was no choice at all. She leaned towards his lips and kissed him tenderly, parting her lips. He placed both his hands on her cheeks, as his tongue softly caressed hers. He pulled back slightly, his lips turning up in a sweet smile. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” she said.

“What about Griffin?” Reed asked quietly.

“I want him in my life.” Peyton wrapped her arms around his waist. “But I’m where I want to be.”

“You’re where you belong.” Reed ran his fingers through her hair.

Peyton smiled. “Griffin doesn’t know me like you do. I’ve never talked to him in any detail about my rape. He’s known me for 20 years and sends me yellow flowers because he doesn’t know I like pink ones. He’s never asked what my favorite pie is because he’s only concerned with his. He doesn’t take me to the beach and let me cry away my tears. He doesn’t know how my sweat tastes. But he’s a good guy — just complicated.”

“I don’t want to think about him anymore tonight.”

“OK,” she said, “but don’t go off punching him anymore.”

“Only if you promise to make my pie again.”

“That depends,” Peyton said, twirling her locket. “Did you sleep with anyone during the last month?”

“No, I only wanted you,” he answered honestly, hoping she didn’t clarify her question or press him for details. If she did, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. Bringing up his quick trip to the hotel with Heather wouldn’t lead to anything good, but he didn’t want to keep any more secrets, either. Thankfully, Peyton had other things on her mind.

“Then take me back to your place tonight,” she said.

* * *

They reached the tent, then Peyton made her way to her pie table to help Julia clean up. Reed looked around at the thinning crowd and found Griffin standing alone by the buffet table. He headed straight there.

“Pack up your shit,” Reed told him. “I want you out of her house in the morning.”

IT WAS WELL
past midnight when they got back to New Orleans. Reed unlocked his front door and whisked Peyton off her feet, cradling her in his arms, carrying her over the threshold. She giggled and kicked off her shoes. He wondered if they’d pick up where they left off, or hopefully take the next step, or whether she just wanted to sleep. He took her to the sofa, and she rested her head on his shoulder, snuggling in close, seeing her magazine cover on the coffee table. She began to fiddle with his shirt buttons, as if debating with herself.

“You must be exhausted,” he said, nuzzling his nose into her hair, taking in her sweet vanilla. “How about a nice, long bath?”

“No bath.” Peyton stood up in front of him and reached around to her back, unzipping her dress, feeling it slide down to her feet, like she was standing in a puddle of blue water.

But Reed wasn’t focused on anything blue, his eyes locked on her red lace bra and thong. He slowly got to his feet and stood before her, soaking her in. “Those are new.”

Peyton made a slow twirl, shaking her booty at him.
Power panties!

Reed took another step towards her, but she stepped back, teasing him. “You know I can catch you.”

“I let you win that time!” Reed gave her a crooked smile before capturing her in his arms. Peyton ran her fingers through his messy hair then stared into his eyes. “I’m ready to be caught now.”

She took his hand and led him to his bedroom. He stared at her curves, the softness of her skin, radiating with the moonlight shining into his bedroom. He saw her tremble slightly, perhaps self-conscious from his stare, that he was taking his time. She reached for her locket, and Reed caught her hand, pulling her close. “I love you,” he said, figuring that was a good place to start, then ran his fingers through her hair before trailing light kisses down her neck. He’d waited for this moment for months but now didn’t feel prepared.