Page 115 of The Rules We Broke
“Thank you,” she replied, perfectly straight-faced.
He offered her his hand to help her to the table. She hesitated. Just a beat. But that smile—his quiet, persistent kindness—was a force even Aunt Lu couldn’t resist.
She took his hand. Reluctantly. And Brady beamed like he’d just won something meaningful.
I smiled, too. It was hard not to.
After settling her into her chair, Brady walked over to me and held out my chair as well. I sat down—and caught my aunt watching. That moment lingered. I could see the shift. She was impressed. Even if she didn’t want to be.
Dinner was lovely—warm, easy, filled with the kind of quiet contentment I’d been craving.
Afterward, we spent the evening playing poker. Yes, poker. My aunt had a long-standing love for five card draw and a reputation for being absolutely ruthless at it. She wiped the floor with us—and took delicious satisfaction in doing so.
Brady tried his best to coax her into a conversation that required using his name. He was clever about it, too—baiting questions, subtle setups.
She never took the bait.
And the more she avoided it, the more convinced I became that sheknew.She knew about the deal I’d made with Brady. And she was going to give him a run for his money.
It was wildly entertaining. Infuriating, too—but in the way only family can be.
***
Friday came early—earlier than usual, thanks to Atlanta’s Eastern Time and our Central Time departure. But I didn’t mind. Any time with Brady was time well spent.
This was our day—on my turf. I was going to show him my place, let him see the life I’d built. And I couldn’t wait to see how it looked through his eyes.
Brady looked devastating in his dark gray suit and blue tie. He’d traded his signature cowboy boots for sleek black leather dress shoes.
I wore my black Calvin Klein suit—the same one I’d worn that first day at the bank.
Judging by the way Brady’s eyes roved over me, I had his full approval.
Doris, saint that she was, came early to be with my aunt. I was still nervous about her health, even if she had the kind of grit that might outlast us all. As we slipped out the door, Doris wished Brady luck and told us to enjoy our day. Brady and I exchanged a glance. Enjoying our day? That wasn’t going to be a problem.
The drive started out perfect—just Brady and me, shoulder to shoulder, with the early sun chasing us toward the city.
Then we hit Atlanta morning traffic.
Idislikedtraffic. Bradyabhorredit.
For someone so easygoing, he got surprisingly uptight. I think he almost swore. Almost.
Once we reached the bank, I could tell he wasn’t in the best mood. He tried to blame it on the traffic—but I could tell it wasn’t just the traffic twisting him up. It was the way he kept gripping the steering wheel as soon as we hit the state line.
“Brady,” I said gently, “you don’t know what it means to me that you’re willing to move here. I love you.”
He took my face in his hands. Those strong, steady hands that had always felt like home.
“Ellie,” he said, voice low and sure, “I would do anything if it means we can be together.”
“I know,” I whispered.
He kissed me, and I wished him luck. As we parted, he walked toward the bank—confident, collected—and I headed for the Starbucks across the street to meet my agent, Olivia.
She greeted me with a hug the moment I stepped inside. I’d missed her. She was more friend than agent, but she handled both roles with grace.
“Elle, you look fabulous,” she said, practically glowing.
