Chapter Thirty-Nine
LUCY WADDLED MY WAY AS soon as I walked out of patient room one. She looked more uncomfortable than ever, yet she wore a smile even though it was the middle of the night. The overnight shift was always brutal, even if the patient load was light like it currently was.
“You have a visitor in the break room,” she sang.
Her tone told me exactly who it was. It was awfully late for Brooke to be there. I hoped everything was okay. She hadn’t mentioned stopping by.
“Thanks, Lucy.” I hustled over to the break room, grateful Evie wasn’t there. I didn’t need any more lectures about how inappropriate it was for me to make out with my girlfriend in the break room. If she’d only seen what had happened in the supply closet. I smiled to myself. That was a genius bucket list item, if I do say so myself.
I walked into the break room to see Brooke sitting at a table wearing a cone birthday hat in front of a layered chocolate ganache cake. I paused at the door, realizing why she was there in the middle of the night.
As soon as Brooke noticed me, she put a party horn in her mouth and blew. “Happy birthday, Erica!” she exclaimed.
I’d never met anyone as thoughtful as Brooke. How did I get so lucky? I crossed the room in a few strides.
She jumped up and threw her arms around my middle, her head landing on my chest, the birthday hat assaulting my face .
“Ouch.” I laughed.
“Oops.” Brooke remedied the situation and tossed the hat onto the table. “Sorry. Let’s try that again.” She snuggled back into me.
I embraced her, holding on tight, knowing more and more that she belonged in my life.
“I know you and your family were planning on celebrating Erica later, but I wanted to do something for her. For you. I asked Eden what her favorite cake was. Don’t worry—I didn’t make it.” She giggled that infectious laugh of hers. “Eden and Sophie did, so it’s totally edible.”
She had no idea what this meant to me. I’d been unsure how to approach this day with Brooke, with our relationship being newish and with some of the complexities we’d already faced. The last thing I wanted was for her to think I was letting Erica come between us again; nor did I want to ignore Erica’s birthday. So, I’d just offhandedly mentioned Erica’s birthday was coming up. I should have known Brooke would understand and just been open about it. I obviously still had a lot to learn.
“Thank you, Brooke.” I leaned down and lifted her chin, giving me access to those soft lips of hers I couldn’t get enough of. My lips brushed hers, and her tongue skimmed mine, allowing me to taste the ganache she’d obviously sampled. I deepened the kiss, and she responded instantly, pressing into me, the warmth of her body molding against mine. The taste of chocolate mingled with something sweeter—her. Entirely her.
Her fingers curled into my shirt, anchoring me there, deepening the connection as if she knew exactly what I needed in that moment—something real. I kissed her again, slower this time, letting it say everything I wanted to put into words but wasn’t sure I could.
When we finally pulled apart, her breath danced across my lips. Not ready to let go, I rested my forehead against hers and took a moment to breathe her in.
“I love you.” The feelings turned into words. Words I hadn’t planned on saying but that I meant all the same.
We’d been dancing around the phrase for days, hiding behind the safety of falling in love instead of admitting what was already true. But there was no denying it now. I loved her, and she needed to know .
She stilled, holding her breath, and for a moment, I worried I’d been too hasty. But then, in her rich alto voice, she whispered against my lips, “I love you, Logan Summers. So much.”
We let it linger between us, not saying another word until Brooke leaned away and gave me that crooked grin of hers—the one that always did me in, especially because it brought out her one dimple.
“Let’s celebrate your wife.” Her voice was lighthearted, but the sincerity was undeniable.
“You are incredible.” There were no other words that fit.
“I want her to love me, and I want to love her. So, we are going to play Erica’s Ten Favorite Things. And, of course, we’re going to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to her and eat cake because—PS—it’s so good.” She pointed at the cake with reverence.
“I figured, by the way you tasted.” I chuckled.
“Well, I got bored waiting for you, so I might have had a few swipes of ganache.” She raised her fingers as if still savoring the remnants.
“No judgment here.” I pulled out a chair for her before taking a seat next to her.
Brooke pulled a handwritten note out of her bag with a list of questions. “Okay, first question: What is Erica’s favorite color?”
“Brown.” I smiled, thinking of how well she’d looked in it. She’d called it her black.
Brooke tapped the paper thoughtfully. “I bet brown went well with her red hair.”
“It did.” It was strange how easy it was to talk to Brooke about my wife.
“Okay, next question. Favorite food?”
“Sushi.”
Brooke wrinkled her nose and shuddered dramatically. “I will respect Erica’s taste buds, but raw fish and I will never be friends.”
I grinned, knowing how much Brooke detested sushi.
“Her favorite time of day?” Brooke asked.
“She was a morning person. She thought sleeping in past six was a travesty, even if we were on vacation.” I could never convince her to spend a lazy morning in bed with me.
“That’s admirable,” Brooke commented. “I’m not that disciplined. ”
“You don’t have to be.” I wanted to be sure she knew that.
“I know.” She nudged me. “Speaking of vacation. Where was her favorite place to visit?”
“She loved Ireland.” I thought of our trips there with fondness. Erica had this knack for finding the quaintest bed-and-breakfasts to stay at.
“I’ve always wanted to go there.” Brooke sighed dreamily.
It dawned on me that nothing was keeping Brooke and me from doing just that. After all, I loved her. “Let’s plan a trip.”
Brooke’s eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Yes.”
Brooke kissed my cheek and squealed. “Okay, well, first I need to get a job, and then we will plan our trip.”
“Are you nervous about your interview with the SoundWave execs?” She’d decided to continue pursuing that dream, despite her feelings about Maxwell. She thought her mom wouldn’t want her to pass it up. And she’d realized opportunities like that rarely came around.
“Very, but Lola’s been helping me prepare. She’s a smart cookie.”
“So are you,” I reminded her.
“Thank you. Please keep reminding me of that.”
“You got it.”
“Okay, back to Erica. This is her day.”
I wondered what Erica would make of Brooke’s celebration for her. I hoped she’d appreciate it for what it was—Brooke’s way of telling us both that she wasn’t here to erase Erica. They could exist together.
“Favorite band?” Brooke asked. “This one is important.”
I grinned, loving Brooke’s passion for music. “She was a big Coldplay fan.”
“That’s totally respectable. Next up, what mythical creature would she have as a pet?”
I tensed, my fingers tapping the table. Erica had always been practical—no time for whimsical hypotheticals like this. I hesitated, not wanting to dampen the mood.
“She would think that was a ridiculous question and refuse to answer it,” I admitted.
Brooke studied me for a moment, and then with quiet understanding, she said, “You know, that’s okay. I know I’m not for everyone. As long as I’m for you, that’s what matters.” She toyed with the edge of the paper. “However, I would like to think Erica and I would have found some common ground, and she would be happy that you’re happy.”
I placed my hand over Brooke’s. “You are for me. Don’t ever question that. And I would like to think Erica would be happy that I’m happy.” I paused and then smirked. “Although she would have never let me live it down that I fell in love with a much younger woman.”
Brooke laughed. “Yeah, you’re a real cradle robber. Now ... back to the question. Just for fun, if I had to assign her one ... what do you think of a phoenix? Wise and graceful. That fits, right?”
Erica would absolutely hate that I was answering, but there was no way in hell I could disappoint Brooke. “Phoenix fits.”
Brooke, happy with that, moved on to the next question. I prayed it wasn’t about mythical creatures or what she would want her pirate name to be. Thankfully, it was an ordinary getting-to-know-you question.
“Who was her hero?”
“Marie Curie.” I thought of all the biographies she’d read of hers. I had those books packed away. Maybe it was time to get them out.
“I was actually going to guess that. See? I’m getting to know her.”
That meant the world to me.
“Question number eight: What was her favorite holiday?”
“She loved Christmas. She was actually a very thoughtful gift giver. You’re similar that way.” That brought me a lot of comfort. At the beginning of my relationship with Brooke, all I could think about was how different the two women were.
“I like that,” she said simply before moving on. “Next question: Did she have a guilty pleasure?”
I pointed at the cake on the table.
“Really?” Brooke sang. “That makes me so happy.”
And I knew it did. And that was what made Brooke so wonderful.
“All right, last question.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “What is the one moment you had together that best captures who she was? ”
I hadn’t expected that, and I admit I wasn’t sure how to answer. How did you define someone by one moment?
Brooke placed her hand on my arm. “I know this is a hard one, but I really want to love her because you do, and I thought this question would be the most helpful.”
Damn, how did I get so lucky to have two incredible women to love? I gazed into Brooke’s eyes, looking for the answer there, strangely knowing I would find it. She was looking for something that connected them. It took a moment, but the answer came.
“When I was a resident, there was one night—one of those brutal, never-ending shift nights. I was completely exhausted, and I had just lost a patient. I knew it was coming, but it still gutted me. Erica showed up at the hospital—unannounced—with coffee and food. She hardly said a thing, but she held my hand, just knowing I needed her. A lot like you tonight.”
Brooke’s eyes filled with moisture. “I love that,” she whispered.
“Me too.”
She leaned in, her lips hovering above mine, not saying a word for several moments. Her fingers traced lightly over my hand while our breaths synced.
Finally, she said, “Thank you for sharing her with me.”
I couldn’t believe she was the one thanking me. “It’s you who deserves all the credit. I didn’t even know I needed this. Thank you, Brooke.”
“You’re welcome.” Her lips brushed mine. “Now, let’s eat cake.”
I chuckled, but the moment didn’t escape my attention. The thought struck me that because the relationship Erica and I had, while not perfect, was good, it had made me want to love again. In her own way, she had led me to the woman in front of me.
Brooke handed me a fork, smiling, bordering on smirking. “You can eat dessert for Erica.”
I took the fork, holding Brooke’s gaze. “For Erica. And for you too.”