Say You're Mine (The Gallaghers Book 1) by Layla Hagen (digital ebook reader .txt) 📗

for the first time to see me at my apartment. I didn’t give them a reason, and they didn’t seem bothered by my request, which I was thankful for.

“They’re going to calm down by the time we’re back from Oregon,” Brayden assured me on Friday, before we left for the airport. We were only spending the weekend there, so I wasn’t sure if that was going to make such a difference, but he might be right.

I’d asked the neighbor next to the office to keep an eye on the situation outside, and he said there were fewer reporters now compared to a few days ago. I had no idea how to navigate this whole situation, or if things would change once Brayden left for his world tour. My heart sank at the thought, but I refused to let it cloud my happiness.

I knew the rules going into this, so it was no surprise that this couldn’t, wouldn’t go anywhere, but I didn’t want to think about that now.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

I smiled coyly, not wanting to ruin these happy vibes we had going on. Lacing my arms around his neck, I rose on my tiptoes, kissing his chin.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I said in a lighthearted tone, but I really didn’t think he would.

Chapter FifteenBrayden

“Oh, this house is so lovely,” Isabelle exclaimed as we got out of the cab in front of my parents’ house. It looked the same as it did when I was growing up: wooden facade painted in white, with a wraparound porch where I’d spent many afternoons writing songs in high school. Mom brought me snacks from time to time, not even bothering to call me inside for dinner if I was in the middle of playing or writing.

She’d always been my biggest champion. I was very happy that I’d flown here to celebrate her birthday. It would mean a lot to her. If it weren’t for Isabelle, I wouldn’t be here at all.

“You’re doing a good thing, son,” Harry said. He’d driven us from the airport. For as long as I’d remembered, he’d been a cab driver. I was glad it hadn’t changed, despite Uber infiltrating our small town. He must have been in his seventies now, but he insisted he had nothing to do at home.

“Have a great day, Harry.”

Sasha had hired a local security company to tail us, so their car was right behind the cab. We could have asked them to drive us here, but I wanted Harry to make some money.

I brought my small suitcase and Isabelle’s huge one on the porch before knocking at the front door.

My smile widened as I heard footsteps from inside.

My mother opened the door. “Oh my goodness. Oh my goodness. I can’t believe this.”

I pulled her into a tight hug. She only noticed Isabelle off to my side as she kissed my cheek.

“And you brought Isabelle. Jana’s been following the tabloids, of course, and is keeping us informed.”

They’d posted something of a biography of Isabelle. I pulled all the strings I could so they didn’t find out her personal address.

Isabelle’s eyes widened. “Hi, Mrs. Clarke. I’m so happy to meet you.”

“And I you! Call me Esther.”

Mom hugged Isabelle too, who just hugged her right back without hesitation.

“Jana’s my cousin,” I informed Isabelle.

“Mark,” Mom said loudly, “come to the front. Quickly now.”

“Did you get another delivery?” Dad asked from the back of the house.

“No, no. Come here. You’ll see.”

Dad rushed toward us, jerking his head back when he noticed me and Isabelle.

I shook his hand, then pulled him in for one of those manly hugs he’d taught me as a kid. Fuck, I’d missed my parents. My old man released me, then focused completely on Isabelle.

“Mom, Dad, Isabelle and I have been seeing each other for a while. She’s the one who convinced me to fly out here.”

Mom smiled widely. “Did you kids eat anything on the way here? Your dad was about to start the barbecue.”

Isabelle laughed. “We ate a lot, but I’ll never say no to barbecue.”

“Perfect,” Dad exclaimed. “I’ll go back outside and get to work.”

Mom glanced upstairs, narrowing her eyes. “You two are going to sleep in the guest bedroom. I’ve made a yoga studio out of your old bedroom, Brayden, and anyway, you just had that small bed. Do you want to go straight upstairs, make yourselves comfortable while Dad and I finish preparing lunch?”

“Sure. I’ll bring the suitcases from outside. You don’t have to come up, Mom. I know where the guest bedroom is,” I teased her with a wink.

“Well, I hope so. It’s not been that long,” Mom said, heading to the kitchen.

Opening the front door, I grabbed the suitcases.

“You go first. It’s the room on the left,” I told Isabelle.

She practically jumped up the stairs. Her good mood was catchy.

She looked around with curiosity, chuckling at the pictures lining the staircase walls. My parents had chronicled my childhood in these pictures. There was a photo for everything, from learning to ride a bike to graduating high school. The last picture was from my last trip home. My hair was long, nearly touching my jaw, the look I’d sported when I was last here. I’d stayed away for too long.

“Oh, this is cozy,” Isabelle said, stepping inside the guest room. I’d barely put down the suitcases when I heard someone come up the steps.

“I forgot you don’t know where the towels are,” Mom said, sounding breathless. She peeked inside the room. “And there’s no shower gel in the bathroom, but I’ll bring you one from ours.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I said. Once she was out of earshot, I turned to Isabelle. “I’ve never seen her so jumpy.”

“Well... she wasn’t expecting you, and she was still too surprised downstairs to think about logistics. Sounds to me like she’s slipping into Mom mode. My mother does the same when I’m home.”

We didn’t unpack and immediately went back down. My parents were waiting for us at the bottom of the