4. Brooks
4
brOOKS
Brooks blinked dazedly, his eyes adjusting to the harsh glare of electric lights as he pushed back against the steering wheel.
Holy fuck.
His car was sitting in the middle of a store. A store.
Glass shards glittered from his windshield and hood, a metal display rack of handmade cards lying against his driver’s side window. Why didn’t the airbag deploy?
He peeled his hands from the steering wheel.
It had all happened so fast.
One minute, he’d been pulling on Main Street in the sleepy Maryland mountain town Cormac had given him directions to, and the next, a deer had leaped into the road, inches from his bumper. He’d swung out of the way on reflex, hopped the curb, and landed in the store window.
Going through a window was actually lucky. If he’d gone into a wall, who knew what shape he’d be in now?
His legs were stiff as he pushed the door open, the card rack clattering to the floor with a metallic thud. He winced and stepped out onto broken glass and debris, surveying the damage.
“Hey! What the hell?”
Am I seeing things, or is a woman in a towel yelling at me?
He rubbed the back of his neck, hoping to God she wouldn’t recognize him immediately. Or at all. “Uh, deer jumped in front of my car and?—”
“Are you drunk?” The woman marched up to him, fearlessness in her blue eyes, her wet blond hair bouncing on her bare shoulders, then halted. She retreated a step as though thinking better of approaching him.
“No.” Brooks scowled. “And I’m fine, thanks for asking.”
She wrinkled her nose, then scanned the store. Hurrying toward a display of sweatshirts with Brandywood, Maryland emblazoned on the front, she grabbed a pink one and a pair of gray sweatpants, then disappeared into a back door.
She must own the place—which, from the looks of it, meant she was a successful small business owner. His eyes narrowed at a table of beer mugs etched with Yardley’s Country Depot.
Why does that name sound familiar?
Before he could figure it out, the woman had returned, wearing the sweats. She hurried toward him. “Sorry about that. Are you okay? You’re right—I should have asked. Your face looks bruised on one side. Did you hit it on the steering wheel?”
“I’m fine.” He didn’t feel like explaining that he’d already been wearing a shiner before he’d gotten in the car.
“You sure? I can get you some ice if you need it. Or call 911.”
Hell no. He pushed the driver’s door shut and winced at the outside of the car. He’d have to get Darren to take care of that . . .
Shit, I fired him.
Dammit.
It’d been a long time since he handled anything like an insurance claim himself.
What he needed was an assistant and?—
The woman continued to stare at him, but she’d raised her eyebrows by now.
“Uh, yeah, great.” He released a long sigh and rubbed his neck again. Maybe he had a bit of whiplash.
“All right, well, I’m calling the cops anyway.” She turned toward the register.
The cops?
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Brooks took a few long strides to reach her. “Hang on now. Do we have to do that?”
She whipped a suspicious look at him. “You don’t want me to call the cops?”
“Not really. If possible. I’m happy to take care of fixing all of this for you.”
She set her hands on her hips, arms akimbo. “Do I look like an idiot to you? You just drove your car into my store. I’m absolutely calling the cops.” She continued past him.
His hand shot out reflexively, grabbing her by the elbow. “Please, miss.”
A divot of consternation formed between her brows, and her gaze traveled down to his hand, then back to his eyes. “First, I’d appreciate you not touching me. Second, if you try anything with me, I will scream. I also have a gun and know how to use it.”
Of course she does.
He dropped his offending hand, his fingertips burning. “Sorry.” Taking a step back, he pinched the bridge of his nose and tried more peaceably, “Listen, I know it sounds suspicious as all hell when I ask you not to call the cops, but it’s a privacy thing for me.”
“Privacy?”
“Yeah, I. ..really rather not have this get out.”
“Not get out? Your frickin’ car is in my store. The window is gone. In three hours, all of Brandywood will know about this.” She scanned his face. “Besides, why would it make a difference if it gets out . . .”
A flash of recognition lit those pretty eyes.
Damn.
“Holy shit, you’re Brooks Kent.”
And there it is. He grimaced. “Yeah, I am.”
She bit her lip, an unreadable look on her face. “You have proof?”
He guffawed. “Proof?”
She crossed her arms. “You could just look like him. Be using that to your advantage.”
“You’re right, I could.” He reached into his pocket for his wallet and pulled out his license. “Here.”
She examined it, then handed it back with a dubious shrug. “Could be a fake.”
Good God, this woman is maddening.
Sighing, he took out his phone, then opened his Instagram. Holding it out to her, he asked, “How about this?”
She brought the phone closer to her face. After a moment, she paled and looked back and forth from the screen to his face. “Damn, you really are him, aren’t you?” Redness crept into her cheeks as she returned his phone.
“In the flesh,” he said in a dry, flat tone. “And you are?”
“Madison—Maddie. Kent. I mean Yardley!” The last phrase burst out of her mouth, and her cheeks grew scarlet. “Yardley. Maddie Yardley. I-I don’t know why I said your last name. I’m just exhausted. I swear I’m not like a creepy groupie or anything. I don’t even think I’ve listened to anything by you in, like, maybe four years. It’s just late, you know? Or I guess early. Shit. I’m so embarrassed.” She face-palmed.
Brooks did his best not to chuckle. It was strangely cute, the effort she was putting into explaining away the innocent slip. “No big deal. So . . . Maddie, maybe you can see my predicament? Honestly, your little town knowing is the least of my worries.” Especially after last night. “ But I can pay for the damage.”
She tucked a strand of wet hair behind her ear, her eyes fixed on the car. “Brandywood might be a little town, but news around here travels like wildfire. If one person finds out Brooks Kent crashed his car into the Depot, you can count on pretty much the whole town gossiping about it, and then it just taking on a life of its own from there. Also . . .”
Noted. “Yes?”
“This isn’t exactly my store. It belongs to my grandfather. Much as I might want to help you out, it’s not really my call to make. But I also don’t really want to call him and his wife at four in the morning. Pops has some heart issues, and I don’t want to give him a scare if I can avoid it.”
Maddie let out a long breath between puffed cheeks. “Maybe . . .” She tapped her foot with nervous energy. “Okay, so my future brother-in-law is a mechanic. I can probably get him to tow your car back to his shop within the hour—that’s the easy part. And I have the contractor who built this place basically on like speed dial—he’s a family friend—so I might get him to come out here and put up plastic or something. But the cops. . .” She massaged her temples.
No wonder she runs a successful business. Whatever other quirks she might have, Maddie seemed remarkably adept at thinking on her feet.
Her face lit. “I got it. My sister’s best friend’s brother is a cop. I don’t know if he’s on duty, but if I call him, he’d probably come out here and take a report. I can ask him not to turn it in unless it becomes necessary.”
“You mean if I somehow renege on my promise to take care of the damage.”
She gave him a steely-eyed gaze. “Yeah, I mean, you might be famous but I don’t know you.”
Smart woman. “That’s fair,” he said in a low tone. Of course, that didn’t solve the problem of him getting to Cormac’s place tonight, but he could deal with that later.
“If I go upstairs to get my phone to take pictures and make those calls, you’re not going to leave, right?”
He released a sigh. “I’ll be right here.”
“I do have security camer?—”
“I get it.” This time, he couldn’t keep the annoyance out of his voice. Maybe his reputation preceded him here.
Her lips set to a line, then she gave a quick nod and left again.
Brooks ground his teeth. Considering he’d been in jail only a few hours earlier, the phrase from the frying pan into the fire didn’t quite sound right.
But damn if coming here doesn’t feel like a massive mistake.