Chapter Twenty-Eight
A FRANTIC POUNDING ON THE sliding glass door caught us all by surprise while we were playing Monopoly at the kitchen table. I was more surprised to find it was Brooke. I hadn’t expected to see her that night, as she was supposed to have plans with Lola.
“Oh, dear; it looks like she’s been crying,” Mom commented.
That had me flying out of my seat and rushing to the door. As soon as I opened it, Brooke spilled in and fell against me, clutching a manila envelope and sobbing.
I wrapped my arms around her protectively as she trembled. “Brooke, what’s wrong?” A panic rose inside me, a mixture of fear and the desire to fix whatever was the matter.
“Maxwell,” she stuttered. “He . . . he . . . he . . .” Her sobs got more pronounced.
My panic morphed into rage, and my fear reached nightmarish levels at the utterance of his name.
“What did that bastard do?” The worst-case scenarios screamed through my head, making it pound.
“My mom says bastard is a bad word,” Sophie reminded me.
“Maybe we should leave them alone,” Eden said. “Let’s go out for ice cream.”
“But what’s wrong with Brooke?” Sophie cried as Eden tried to usher her out .
“Don’t worry; Uncle Logan will take care of her.” Mom tried to comfort my niece.
I only hoped that I could undo whatever Maxwell had done, but I was sick thinking it was the kind of thing that would cause lifelong damage.
As soon as everyone left, I picked up Brooke and cradled her against me.
She curled into me and nuzzled her head in the crook of my neck, gripping the envelope. Her hot tears spilled over my skin.
I kissed her head as I walked us to the couch and sat down, keeping a tight hold on her. For minutes she just sobbed, unable to speak. All the while, I imagined myself causing significant harm to Maxwell Harrington. Whatever he’d done to her, he was going to pay for it. That, I would make sure of.
After what felt like a torturous eternity, Brooke’s sobs turned into shudders, and she took several cleansing breaths, trying to compose herself.
My fingers danced down her bare arm several times as I tried to let her know I was there for her.
Without saying a word, she pulled out the manila envelope pinned between us. “It’s all in here,” she stammered.
“What’s in there?”
“The reason my mom sent me here.”
“I’m not following,” I said gently, confused.
“She wanted me to meet my father.”
“Your father?” As soon as I asked, I realized what she meant. Oh, hell. Maxwell’s attention and help now came into a new light. He was still a bastard, but at least I wouldn’t have to call the authorities. “Maxwell Harrington is your father?”
Brooke sat up and nodded. Her eyes and face were puffy and red.
I ran the back of my hand down her waterlogged cheek. “How did you find out? Did he tell you?”
She shook her head and then told me the story of breaking into Maxwell’s office and finding the envelope under the concert posters.
“After I stole the envelope, I rushed home and read every letter between my mom and Maxwell,” she said, as if she couldn’t get enough oxygen into her lungs. “Some of them are the sweetest things I’ve ever read. They seemed very much in love. It was a summer love.” Her voice cracked.
“Or so my mom thought. Maxwell was the one who got the Roxannes invited to the Strawberry Festival to play. From what I gather, it was after they played here that their relationship went to the next level. My mom thought Aspen Lake was magical because of Maxwell and because this is where I came to be.” She blinked and blinked, trying to digest it all.
I wasn’t sure what to say. But I remembered Erica telling me that sometimes the best thing was for me not to say anything. All she wanted was a listening ear. And it wasn’t like I could fix this. So, I stayed silent, offering Brooke the only thing I could: my presence and a hand to hold.
“Maxwell didn’t believe that I was his. He said stupid things like she was on the road so much, how was he to know she hadn’t been sleeping with other guys? And then he told her that all she was to him was fun. What they had was a fling to him.”
I flinched at the word fling , especially given the context and my relationship with Brooke.
“Can you believe he would do that?” Brooke asked, disgusted.
Unfortunately, I could. “Some men are the worst sort of cowards.”
“Yeah, well, he’s the king of them. He paid her off so it would go away. So I would go away. But my mom refused to permanently let it go. She sent him a photo of me and warned him that one day he would know who I was and that I was his. And one day he would have the opportunity to prove whether he was man enough to tell me the truth. To tell me he’s my father.”
I wondered if he would. He was obviously going to realize the envelope was missing and who took it. I hoped he was in crisis mode right about then. Or soon would be. What was he going to tell his wife and Lola?
“My mom’s bucket list makes so much more sense now. She. Is. Good,” Brooke said in awe. “He pushed her to the limits, but she made sure that she pushed back. She was determined to make him face the truth. ”
I had to give Roxanne Crawford props. She was wickedly good. “So, what are you going to do now that you know?” I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“He wasn’t man enough to tell me himself, so I’m not going to do anything. He obviously never wanted me.” The emotion and hurt crept back into her voice. It was apparent she felt betrayed, as she should have. “He’s had all summer to tell me. He’s probably ashamed I didn’t turn out better.
“It’s no wonder he got me that interview with SoundWave. Not only does he not want me to be a loser, but he probably wants to get me as far away as possible from him and Lola. Oh, my gosh! Lola’s my sister. I don’t know why that just dawned on me. I guess the shock is wearing off.” She cried and fell against me, her body shaking with sobs.
Her tears soaked through my shirt, and somehow, it felt like an honor. I held her tighter, wishing I could take away her pain but knowing all I could do was be there for her.
“I’m sorry I ruined your family game night,” she stuttered.
“You have nothing to apologize for. Besides, my mom won’t let anyone but Sophie win.”
Brooke giggled, albeit in a subdued way.
I loved her laugh. Craved it, even. “Brooke, you are one of the best people I’ve ever met. Don’t let him in your gorgeous head. He’s a despicable human being. He’s the loser. Any man who abandons his child and her mother is. That’s not on you; that’s on him.”
“I just don’t understand why he would keep the letters. They don’t paint him in a good light. And why does he still listen to my mom’s music?”
“I don’t understand it either.” I was beginning to think the man was a psycho.
“You know what else I don’t understand? Why did my mom think this place and summer flings were so magical after everything Maxwell put her through? Logan, she was so heartbroken in those letters.” Brooke’s voice wavered, shaken by her mother’s agony.
I smoothed Brooke’s silky hair. “I don’t have all the answers, but it’s easy to see why she felt the way she did about this place and her relationship with Maxwell. She got you. The best kind of magic. ”
“Are you just saying that because I’m an emotional wreck?” Her tone bordered between playful and pained.
I tilted her chin enough for us to make eye contact, needing her to know I was sincere. “Brooke.” Her name felt good on my lips. “You are enchanting.”
She reached up and brushed her delicate fingers across my cheek. “Logan,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being you. I feel like you just got a lot more than you bargained for. This little episode of mine definitely doesn’t fall under the all-fun-all-the-time summer I promised.”
I leaned my forehead against hers, breathing in her intoxicating scent, feeling like something had shifted between us, and I wasn’t sure what that meant.
“You’ll never hear me complain. All it means is that I get to hold you like this.”
Brooke gripped my shirt, twisting it in her hands, her breaths becoming shallower. Palpable emotions and thoughts stirred between us that seemed too big to name. Her lips barely touched mine, careful not to ignite the sparks crackling between us because we both knew how quickly they would turn into flames that would be almost impossible to put out.
The last thing I wanted to do was take advantage of her in such an emotional state after everything she’d been through, though there was no doubt I wanted all of her.
“Brooke,” I whispered against her soft lips, aching to taste them. I longed to feel her warm, soft skin against mine. However, I wouldn’t be selfish with her. Not in that moment. Not ever.
She twisted my shirt tighter, resisting the temptation brewing between us. “I know.” She snuggled back against me, her head landing on my chest.
I let out the breath I’d been holding, feeling both relief and the best kind of torture.
“If I promise to keep my hands off you, can I stay the night? I don’t want to be alone right now.”
I chuckled and kissed her head. “Of course, you can. ”
She relaxed and settled more into me.
I tightened my hold on her, feeling more unsettled than ever. Brooke was right—this summer was more than I had bargained for. I didn’t regret any of it, but now I wasn’t sure how I wanted it to end.