11. Indie
ELEVEN
Indie
I freeze the soft sway we slipped into instead of waltzing around the room. His lips move closer, only a breath away from landing against mine. PDA? That’s probably a good idea, especially with everyone here and able to bear witness.
Pushing onto my tiptoes, I answer his question with a kiss that leans toward publicly indecent. My body’s muscle memory from last night takes over. A throat clears, and we jerk apart, but Brooks doesn’t drop his hand from around my waist.
“Well, aren’t you two cozy?” My best friend eyes us knowingly.
By the time I made it to the spa, after running back to the hotel to shower and grab fresh clothes, Taylor was furious with me. The earful I got took the entirety of my manicure, but when I explained what happened, she pulled the sordid details out of me while we enjoyed the deluxe spa pedicures.
“Taylor.” Brooks greets her, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek.
“You and Spencer look great out there. You’ll do amazing on the day,” I compliment, hoping she keeps the conversation wedding-focused and stops staring at us with our own wedding bells in her eyes.
“I know, right!” She leans in close. “He’s been taking classes twice a week with Ms. Daisy to make sure he doesn’t mess up when we’re out in front of everyone,” she whispers, the awe in her eyes shining bright.
“That’s adorable,” I tell her, but Brooks chokes down a laugh, and I nudge him in the ribs.
“Anyway. I came over here because I need to ask you two a huge favor.”
“Anything, you know that,” I answer before Brooks can throw out his two cents. I’m only here this week for her, so anything she needs, I’ll do it.
“I need you to drive over to Gatesville and pick up the bonbonnieres for the wedding. The girl who made them was supposed to deliver them to the venue, but something happened to her delivery van, and now she can’t make it,” Taylor says in a rush.
“Of course, we can go get them.”
“Gatesville is a three-hour drive round trip. I have a bar to open,” Brooks protests.
“Nick and Travis can cover the bar,” Taylor tells him as if it’s her business to dictate.
“It’s fine, Tay. I can go by myself. I have the rental.”
“You can’t drive that far alone when you don’t know where you’re going. There’s nothing between here and Gatesville besides empty highway and farmland. What if you break down?” she pushes.
I stare down my best friend, her ploy becoming obvious the more she tries to drive the point home. “Tay. The man has a business to run.”
“It’s fine,” Brooks interrupts, “I’ll take her.”
“You will?” Taylor and I say in unison, with very different questioning tones.
“Yeah.” He laughs. “Like you said, Nick and Travis can handle the bar. Plus, I would hate for anything to happen to Indie out there on the open road,” he adds with a flirtatious smile.
“Yay! Thank you, guys, so much. I’ll send you her address and let her know you’re on your way.” Taylor wraps me in a tight hug, whispering a quick “You’re welcome” in my ear.
“What the hell just happened?” Brooks asks.
“That, my waltzing friend, is the sorcery of a bride in her element.” My phone dings in my pocket, and I pat Brooks on the chest.
He watches her make her way back over to her waiting fiancé, who’s currently waltzing in posture by himself.
A text from Taylor’s already waiting with the person’s address and more emoji thumbs-ups than necessary. “Looks like that’s our queue, big guy. You ready to hit the road?”
He shakes his head as if trying to clear the magical haze from his brain. “Yeah, let’s go. But I have one question. What the hell are bonbonnieres?”
T aylor was right. There’s nothing along the route to Gatesville once we pass the city line. I offered to drive and take my rental, which undoubtedly gets better gas mileage than Brooks’ ancient relic. Still, he insisted on driving and therefore required we take his truck. I’ll admit, I can’t imagine his hulking frame fitting comfortably in the car anyway, but that means we’re stuck with a staticky radio that only picks up a tune every other mile.
The air between us hangs heavy with an awkward anticipation for one of us to fill it, but neither of us does. After a half hour of stilted silence, I heave out a loud sigh and turn the music dial off.
“Why are you being weird?” I finally throw out because I can’t take it anymore.
“You’re being weird. I didn’t think you knew how to be this quiet. You haven’t made a peep over there.”
I roll my eyes, even though he can’t see them.
I know how to be quiet.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“God, I wish you would! Ask away,” he says with a desperation that makes me chuckle.
“Why aren’t you married? A small town like Abaline should have a man like you snapped up already.”
“I take it back. Not that question,” he answers curtly.
I should respect his wishes, but now I’m curious. I know I won’t be able to think about anything else until he tells me why he doesn’t want to talk about it.
“Oh, come on.” I push. “It can’t be that serious. Let me guess, you dated everyone of interest, and no one stuck. Hmm, maybe there’s someone that got away?” I tease.
“Indie. I’m serious, enough!”
The bite in his tone reminds me of the night we met. It should shut me back up, but honestly, it just pisses me off. “Fine, you don’t have to be a dick,” I throw back and turn my body toward the door, crossing my arms and huffing in irritation at his change in mood.
I don’t see why it’s such a tricky question to answer. All he had to say was that he hadn’t found the one yet. It’s not like that would have offended me. So, we slept together. I don’t expect him to be on one knee by the time Taylor and Spencer are done cutting the cake.
But it’s something more than anger creeping in my chest, and I don’t like the heaviness sitting between us. Fuck him for taking that tone with me and ruining what was gearing up to finally be a good day between us. I was just starting to think we were getting somewhere… deeper.
“Dammit,” Brooks mutters before I feel his heavy hand grip my exposed thigh. “Fuck, Indie, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. It’s just a topic people usually know to avoid with me.”
I shrug, and his hand flexes against my leg. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Forget I asked.” My head connects with the cool window. I wish this trip was over. But the last time I saw a sign; we were still 40 miles out.
Brooks lets out a long sigh when I don’t turn away from the safety of the window. “I was… married,” he pauses, letting the news hang between us.
The way he stumbled through the statement makes me swing in his direction. “Oh my god,” I say with a soft gasp. “Did she pass? I’m so sorry, Brooks, I didn’t know. I wouldn’t?—”
“No. That’s not it.” He cuts off my apologetic ramblings. “She’s very much alive. She’s just not in Abaline anymore.”
“Oh.” Is all that passes my lips. I don’t feel right pushing the subject anymore.
The quiet engulfs us again, but Brooks’ heavy hand holds firm to my thigh. The connection keeps me from spiraling completely in my idiocy. After a few minutes of the tires crunching against the tarmac of the highway, his throat clears.
“We got married out of high school.”
“Brooks, you don’t have to. I shouldn’t have pushed. It’s not my business.” I try to backpedal on the entire situation.
“Indie,” his eyes flick to mine before returning to the road, “just shut up and listen for once, would you?”
My face goes hot, but I do as he asks this time, turning into him fully so I can listen and watch him share this unexpected part of his life.
“Caroline and I grew up together. Everyone had us pegged from the start to be your stereotypical jock and cheerleader who got married straight out of high school. We’d pop out a couple of kids and never leave this town to keep our roots deep in Abaline, just as they had for generations before us. We were on that path until my pops fell ill, and I had to take over the bar. I dropped out of college, but she didn’t. Our marriage was over the moment she received a job offer overseas.”
His focus remains on the road, but I shoot across the bench seat to his side.
He doesn’t look at me, but his arm leaves my thigh to cradle across my shoulders, holding me close.
“She never let on how much she wanted out of this town. Had I known she had dreams beyond the city lines, I never would have proposed in the first place. I loved her too much to hold her back. So, when she came to me and told me not only did she want a divorce but was moving to England, I didn’t fight her on it. I signed the papers, we filed, and she was gone within the week.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper against his chest, and his hold tightens.
“Don’t be. That was fifteen years ago. You’d think the sore spot would be healed by now, but when you poke at a bruise, it still stings.”
“Her loss,” I say softly, unsure if he can hear the sentiment. But my lips on his prickly cheek do the job.
“We’re here,” Brooks announces.
I pull my gaze from his handsome face and look at the windshield. “Wow, I thought Abaline was tiny. Do people actually live here?” I joke, but there is a bite of truth to it. I can see the welcome and leaving Gatesville sign from where we sit, parked in front of a cute little cottage.
“Come on, city girl. Let’s go get the bonbonnieres, if only so I can finally figure out what the hell they are.”
“You’re in for a surprise.”
Worry crosses his eyes, and I don’t blame him. If I didn’t know what they were, I’d be concerned Taylor was sending us off to grab something crazy.
In the end, Brooks carries the boxes, filled with the small wedding favors for the table settings, back to the truck. He tucks them into the bed, tying them down for safe delivery.
“Really?” he throws my way when we slide back onto the bench seat. “You couldn’t have just told me we were picking up treat boxes?”
“What would have been the fun in that?” I laugh.
We fill the ride back to Abaline with amusing and lively chatter, washing away the heaviness from before. It’s easy and comfortable with Brooks in our little space, but I’m terrified as he stops in front of Taylor’s family estate.
I can see it. Why she chose him for me, and it’s going to make leaving at the end of this week a disaster.