Chapter Thirty-Seven
“ARE YOU SURE YOU’RE READY for this?” I aimed the mic at Brooke, who was curled up on the couch with Lola pressed against her side. The two had been inseparable since I’d convinced Brooke to come back a few days earlier. My grand plans to monopolize her time had taken a hit, but how could I complain? The sisters needed this, especially with Lola heading back to school in a few weeks and both of their lives recently being turned upside down.
Brooke flashed me that grin—the one that said, Come kiss me.
I fully intended to as soon as possible.
“Show me what you got, Dr. Summers,” Brooke challenged me.
“Quit stalling,” Eden cut in, launching popcorn in my direction.
Laughter rippled through my entire family. They were all thrilled when I’d returned with Brooke on Sunday. My mom had even put a call in to our old neighbors, and they were able to work it out with the management company for Brooke to stay in the stone cottage through summer’s end, as originally planned.
On this particular night, we were crossing off bucket list item number two. I’d promised I would sing some Sinatra for Brooke. I remembered that first time in my truck when I’d told her about my past and big band days. From that moment on, she had been bound and determined to hear me sing. I should have known she’d get her way.
Sure, I’d sung a camp song in front of her, but this was different. This was me proving to her and myself that I could be vulnerable. The entire new bucket list centered on how to show Brooke she belonged in my life. That I wanted to make a life with her. I wanted no walls, no pretense coming between us.
I didn’t know if singing for her in front of my family would prove it, but I was going to give it a shot. Besides, Brooke had loved the idea and thought we should make a karaoke night out of it. Of course, she thought I should go first.
“You got this,” Brooke mouthed, giving me the shot of courage I needed.
With a deep inhale and exhale, I clicked play on Sophie’s lavender karaoke machine, and the classic tune of “Fly Me to the Moon” filled the great room.
Brooke kicked her legs and squealed like she was my biggest fan before I even sang one note. She had no idea what it meant to me. With my focus solely on Brooke, I channeled Ol’ Blue Eyes and belted out the number I’d sung dozens of times—but this time it was different.
It wasn’t for the applause of a crowd; it was for the love of a woman.
“Oh. My. Gosh!” Brooke patted her heart. “Hello, Swoonatra!” she called, cutting through the melody as I hit the chorus.
My family, on the other hand, sat frozen, wide-eyed, as if they didn’t recognize me. It made me realize I’d been keeping up a certain persona well before Erica had entered the picture. It was a sobering thought and a mistake I didn’t want to repeat. Why hadn’t I shared this part of me with them or Erica? If I had, would Erica have felt more comfortable sharing her real self with me? Sadly, I would never know the answer to that.
As soon as I sang the last note, Brooke shot up from her seat and rushed toward me. Before I could fully process what was happening, she was in my arms, her legs wrapping tightly around my waist and her arms locking around my neck. Her bubbly laughter tickled my ear while she pressed several kisses to my cheek in between saying, “This was the best thing ever. You’re the best thing ever.”
“The feeling is mutual.” I captured her lips and pressed a chaste kiss to them, given our audience.
“Oh, the PDA with these two,” Eden teased from her seat. Her playful jab elicited chuckles from everyone in the room except my mom, who was wiping tears off her cheeks like she’d missed out on something. It made me wish I’d done this sooner.
Brooke blushed and slid down my frame. It was regrettable, but soon enough, we would be alone and pick up where we’d left off.
I grabbed her hand, holding her by my side. “Now, it’s your turn.”
“All right. Everyone, get ready to take a ‘Journey’ and become a small-town girl in a lonely world,” Brooke shouted.
I loved her energy.
Lola jumped off the couch, holding up her phone. “Actually, I was hoping you could sing a different song.”
Brooke smiled. “Okay, what are you thinking?”
Lola tiptoed her way. “Well, um ... when you invited me to karaoke night, I had a thought. What if I could turn one of your mom’s songs into a karaoke song?”
“Lola,” Brooke breathed out, obviously touched by the gesture. “That is the sweetest thing ever.”
“I actually needed Father Dearest’s help with it. He had a friend remaster it for you.”
Brooke gripped my hand. She hadn’t heard anything from Maxwell, and she wasn’t sure if she would—or if she wanted to. But she knew she had to confront what he’d done, whether face-to-face or in her heart. Eventually, she was going to have to come to terms with it, because if she stayed in Aspen Lake, they would inevitably run into each other. And there was Lola, a huge connecting piece between Brooke and Maxwell.
I couldn’t imagine how those worlds would not collide. I just hoped that when they did, Brooke would realize it was he who wasn’t worthy of her, not the other way around. And that she would know she didn’t need to be anyone other than herself to belong in Aspen Lake.
Brooke stood dumbfounded for a moment, trying to stay composed. “What song?” she asked.
“‘Rebel Heartbeats,’” Lola carefully replied. “You mentioned once it was your favorite. It was Papi’s favorite too,” Lola’s voice shook, seemingly embarrassed to have shown any affection for her father. “I mean, you know, Father Dearest , the pendejo,” she quickly corrected .
I felt for Lola, as I knew Brooke did too. It had to be difficult for her. I could tell she was looking for any reason to believe in her father again. It made sense. She’d loved and respected the man her entire life. That would be a hard thing to let go of, and I didn’t think anyone expected her to—especially not Brooke.
“He knows this doesn’t make up for anything,” Lola emphasized. “But he wanted to do this for you all the same.” Her eyes stayed fixed on Brooke, trying to gauge her reaction.
Brooke blinked, momentarily at a loss for words.
My family’s eyes were glued to the scene as if watching a movie and waiting for the resolution.
Finally, Brooke stood taller and grinned with a mischievous gleam in her eye. “Let’s do this. But you, little sister, will have to sing with me.”
Lola, while appearing relieved that Maxwell’s gesture had been accepted, also looked a bit petrified. “Singing is not my forte.”
“It’s true,” Alejandro laughed.
Lola shot him a piercing stare.
He held up his hands. “Babe, I’m just telling the truth.”
Brooke left my side and grabbed Lola’s hand. “Don’t worry—this is a rock ballad, so just channel your fiery side and inner Chrissie Hynde and shout it out. I promise you’ll be fine. Besides, my mom would love us singing this together.”
“All right,” Lola said bravely, handing me her phone. “I’ve already pulled up the song.”
I handed Brooke the mic and kissed her cheek, then connected Lola’s phone to the karaoke machine. Within seconds, a thunderous drum solo to rival any of Dave Grohl’s reverberated against the walls. Roxanne Crawford truly was a legend.
I jogged over and sat next to my mom so I could get a front-row seat to Brooke’s performance. Mom smiled and nudged me.
“I missed you, son,” she whispered. “It’s nice to have you back.”
It was nice to be back.
Brooke looked up at the ceiling. “This one’s for you, Mom.” She held the mic between her and Lola. Together, they started to sing. Brooke, no holds barred, belted it out, while Lola started out timidly .
Your touch is the rhythm, your kiss plays along,
I’d follow your melody, lost in the song.
Every chord you strike fills the air with desire,
Rebel heartbeats set the whole world on fire.
Those first lines made me wonder if Roxanne had written this song for Maxwell. Had she felt as if her heart was rebelling, loving such a man?
By the second verse, Lola got a little braver and followed her sister’s lead. Brooke put her heart and soul into it, and damn if it didn’t do me in. She had quite the stage presence. Her uninhibited nature was pure intoxication. And those cutoffs. I hoped she never decided to remove them from her wardrobe.
We’re dancing through the chaos, chasing the sound,
A love so unstoppable, it knows no bounds.
Feel the pulse—it’s timeless, it’s true,
Rebel heartbeats, always beating for you.
When the chorus hit, the song’s melody turned sultrier and the beat of the drums more deliberate. Brooke’s gaze grabbed ahold of me, luring me in, making me feel every word and want her even more. Like I said: Damn.
Rebel heartbeats, pounding like drums,
Love like thunder—it crashes, it comes.
Through the storms and the silence, your voice remains,
Rebel heartbeats always call out your name.
Falling in love with Brooke did feel like thunder, but also a calm in the storm.
The song came to its conclusion, and Brooke and Lola hugged, clinging to one another while the rest of us gave them a standing ovation.
Lola kissed Brooke on the cheek before she bounced back to Alejandro.
Brooke found her way to me and fell onto my lap, snuggling right into my chest. “What did you think of my mom’s song?” she whispered.
“I think she’s a rock star like her daughter.”
“You,” she whispered, her breath warm and inviting against my ear, “are bound and determined to make sure I fall hopelessly in love with you, aren’t you?”
That was my plan. “Do you mind?” I asked.
“Not at all.” She settled against me.
My arms tightened around her instinctively. “That’s excellent news.”