47. Now
47
NOW
At the end of the speeches, Gemma retook the stage , explaining about the new garden boxes and the flowers that were available for planting in Mhairi’s honor. Mhairi’s echoing advice for everyone to get their hands dirty rang out in the clear afternoon air.
But all Jack’s attention was focused on Brooke seated in the second row, her eyes red, Mhairi turned around and squeezing her hand and Brooke nodding back, like they had some secret language between them. His heart pumped madly in his chest, never planning to settle after the way she’d looked at him and filled him with wild hope.
When Brooke glanced his way, her light eyes landed on him like a gentle, soothing wave. Her gaze cut to the cherry blossom tree and back like a question. He gave her a pirate’s salute like she’d done all those years ago at Advocate’s Close and her answering smile sent a starburst of hope through him. Maybe they still had a secret language, too.
As he walked past, Mhairi gave Jack an encouraging and si multaneously cheeky smile. “Auntie,” he said with a warning in his voice that only made her chuckle.
As Brooke gingerly walked through the gravel, Jack crossed the distance between them in long strides, offering her his arm.
She looked up at him through her eyelashes. “Captain.”
The nickname lit him up, sending all his well-planned words into chaos, worse when she looped her hand through the crook of his arm, her fingertips sending five points of heat into his skin.
“That was quite the slideshow.”
Jack led Brooke along a gravel path rimmed with cut green grass toward the towering trees at the edge of the property. He wanted to blurt out all the thoughts consuming his mind and forced himself to slow down, to get it right, but the battering of his heart had other ideas, urging him on, needing to know what she’d say.
They stopped below a tree leafed out in early summer glory and he turned to look at her. Salty tracks ran over her cheeks, and her eyes were the beautiful blue of his favorite photo of Loch Oich. Suddenly all the words he’d rehearsed were gone. He was a hammering heart and an echo of fear.
“You were right,” Brooke said, and the words restarted Jack’s breathing. “I’ve been so focused on the memoir and my career, and the things I could do to prove to myself and the world that I was worthwhile.” She gazed up into the white blooms above them. “And I have never been good at taking chances that might end in failure.”
She turned her sky blue eyes on him and pressed her hand over his heart. “I shouldn’t have asked you to sacrifice your dreams. I just didn’t want to lose you.”
Jack slipped his hand over hers, holding her there. “I know.”
“I don’t know why it took so long for me to realize, except that I was afraid. Afraid of our past and trusting you again and what it would mean to me if things didn’t work out. But you were right that I can’t keep living other people’s stories.” She took a breath, stepped in a little closer. “I turned down the ghostwriting job.”
Brooke must’ve been able to feel Jack’s heart under her palm, it beat so fast. He bit back his questions—if this meant she was writing again…if this meant she was staying.
“I’ve been working on my story.”
“I’m so proud of you.”
“I was scared—I’m still scared—but I don’t want to hide anymore. You have always made me feel safe enough to live a big life.”
Brooke had always encouraged him, too. Made him feel like he could have the world if only he was brave enough to reach for it. “You make me feel like that, too.”
“And while I was writing, I realized that I haven’t been chasing the things that make a story, that make a life worth living.”
Jack wanted to wrap his arms around her, wanted the comfort of her embrace, the promise in her touch, but he backed up. He couldn’t let Brooke bear the responsibility for the words just because she was better at them.
“I need to say something, too,” he said.
Brooke nodded quickly, her wary eyes locked on Jack’s. “Okay.”
“I was genuinely trying to protect you back then, to make sure you’d be eligible for Mhairi’s fellowship, that you could have everything you ever wanted.”
“I should’ve realized.”
He looked at his shoes before dragging his eyes up to hers again. “I should have talked to you.”
Brooke nodded.
“What I regret even more is letting you walk away. I was utterly charmed the first moment you tripped into me.” Like adjusting the lens of a camera and the whole world coming into focus. “I was transfixed by your ambition and passion and I wanted to be a part of it. You made me feel like I mattered. You lit up my whole life. I’ve spent too much time trying to make other people happy, but the time I was happiest was when I was with you.”
The breeze whispered through the leaves and twirled the orange tie at Brooke’s waist, blowing a strand of her hair against her lips. With the pad of his finger, he tucked it back behind her ear.
“Those old feelings never went away for me. I should’ve told you I was falling in love with you again. I should’ve told you what I wanted.”
Her breath caught, and he wanted to pull her to him.
“So…what do you want, Jack?” she asked with a quirk of her lips, that old question he could never quite answer, could never quite bring himself to say out loud. But he could now.
“I want you. I want a whole life, full of you. To share a flat in Portobello overlooking the water. I want to swim in the mornings and warm you up with coffee and cake.” His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking back and forth. “I want to explore Glencoe and walk the West Highland Way, take you on the damn Heiland Coo Trail. I want to read all your stories and I want to be a part of them. I have your history, Brooke. I want your future, too.”
Brooke sank her fingers into his hair and he cupped her cheek, tipping her head back and kissing her long and deep.
“I love you,” she said on a whisper and pushed his hair out of his eyes. “I always have.”
A single tear leaked out of her eye and Jack brushed it away with the pad of his thumb. “I never stopped.”