Page 74 of The Rules We Broke
“So, this was a planned setup?”
His eyes glinted. That twinkle was an unmistakable yes.
He guided me to the fire, where smooth flagstones formed a circle around the flames. “I’ll be right back,” he murmured. “Stay here and soak up the warmth.”
He kissed me quickly, then disappeared toward the house.
I watched him climb the porch steps, his silhouette strong against the firelight. It was a porch designed for big family barbecues or summer nights with music drifting out the screen door.
He looked incredible. A little unfair, honestly.
He came back with blankets tucked under one arm and a basket in the other. I wondered whether Benjamin or Kendra had packed it—or if Brady had made this part himself.
He laid out a colorful patchwork quilt across the smooth ground, then began setting out the contents of the basket. A thermos—likely hot chocolate, judging by the subtle spice I caught in the air. Chocolate-covered strawberries, just the way I liked them. And finally, a small speaker.
He connected his phone. A guitar chord strummed through the air, warm and familiar. George Strait’s voice joined the night.
Brady strolled back toward me, visibly pleased with himself. He gestured to the quilt he’d laid out, inviting me to sit beside him.
“It looks like Kendra’s been busy,” I teased.
He laughed and grabbed the extra checkered blanket, wrapping it around both of us until we were one tangled, cozy heap. I leaned into his shoulder, warm from more than just the fire.
“Are you trying to seduce me, Brady Jackson? Because I’m still not that kind of girl.”
He pulled me closer, arm tightening around my waist. “I’m glad to hear it. I’m still not that kind of guy.”
Then he pulled me onto his lap. His lips met mine, and this kiss didn’t ask—itanswered. It deepened until time blurred, and I forgot I was an Eaton, just like old times.
When he finally broke away, his grin was wicked and familiar. “But I do plan on convincing you this is where you belong.”
I cupped his face, thumbs brushing along that perfect jawline, eyes locked with his. “Then this might be a long night, cowboy.”
He kissed me again, slower this time, more reverent. “I’m counting on it.”
I settled against him, and he drew me in like he intended to hold me until morning.
“So, Miss Ellie,” he began. “I think I owe you an explanation.” He paused. “No—I owe you more than that. And I promise I’ll get there. But tonight, let’s start here.”
He took a deep breath, steadying himself.
“First, you need to know the truth about why I ended things. It was never about Amber. I swear to you, it wasn’t. I know it didn’t look that way. And I wouldn’t blame you if you never believed me. But it’s the truth.”
His voice didn’t waver.
“There was no comparison, Ellie. Not then. Not ever. Being with her was the biggest mistake I’ve made—second only to walking away from you.”
I felt those words land—heavy, honest.
“I was trying to keep the peace during those first months of my dad’s chemo treatments.”
He pulled me even closer, his breath warm against my ear. I wasn’t sure why he whispered—there was no one around to hear. Maybe he thought some things deserved to be said softly. Or maybe he wasn’t ready to say them out loud.
“Ellie . . . I had to ignore you.” His voice cracked just slightly. “If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have been able to stay away. You don’t know how many times I almost gave in—how many nights I wanted to throw in the towel and beg you to take me back.”
He paused, and I could feel the weight behind his silence.
“Prom night nearly did me in. When I saw you across the room and you were breathtaking. I wanted to hold you. I needed to.”
