12. Brooks
TWELVE
Brooks
W alking into the bar after a day of wedding activities feels strange. It’s like I’m walking in here for the first time, even though Dad’s owned this place our entire lives.
Nick spies me from behind the bar and tips his head, reading my face as he tosses me a questioning look.
I shake my head and walk toward Travis, who’s wandering up with his clipboard. Liquor delivery came today, so he’ll have papers for me to review if anything is missing.
“Was it all there?” I ask him.
His sigh tells me all I need to know. “No. The stubbies were missing.”
“Again?” I sign off on the paper, and he takes back the clipboard.
“Yeah. Might be time to find a new distributor.” He shrugs, making off for the office to put away the paperwork.
Nick hasn’t stopped eyeing me, but I’m still reeling a bit from the raw conversation with Indie. I’ve never talked to anyone so openly about Caroline.
It felt… good, actually.
There’s a tiny voice in my head telling me I’m getting a little too cozy with the girl who’s leaving in five days, but I also ignore it.
I slap Butch on the shoulder as I halt next to him. He’s in the seat at the end of the bar for once, instead of his regular spot, where he usually posts up further down.
“Hey, old man. What are you doing down here?”
He looks a bit put off by my question like he’s hesitant to answer.
“Oh, now you have to tell me.” I laugh.
“Oh, go on, Butch.” Nick walks up with a shit-eating grin, drying his hands on a rag.
“No. You’ve given me enough shit for the night. I’m done talking about it.” Butch takes long pulls from his beer.
“Butch here thinks if he sits in that specific spot, he might catch the next woman who dances on the bar and then falls off,” Nick says for Butch, and I burst out laughing.
“See! You two are assholes! It was a solid idea, and I’m not getting any younger, dammit!” Butch slams his fist on the bar, startling poor Tony three seats down, who was asleep, face down on the bar.
Butch gets up and snags up his beer, storming off to a booth and pushing in.
“Don’t be like that! Come back. We were just kidding!” Nick shouts over the jukebox.
“Oh,” I rub my chest with my right hand. “I needed that laugh.”
“Why? Did dancing go badly? I can’t imagine it did. I’ve seen you dance.” Nick starts shining the bar with his rag as a group of local college kids walks in, their laughter loud enough to have Butch turning in his booth and giving them a look that says behave or I’ll bounce you out .
I smirk. “No. Dancing was fine. Had to go into Gatesville, though, with Indie to get some boobineers or something like that.”
Nick stops, eyeing me with an eyebrow quirked. “You did what to Indie’s boobs?”
“No! It’s some kind of table favor or something. I don’t know. Someone canceled at the last minute for delivery, so Taylor needed us to pick them up.”
“And?” he prods.
He’s not going to let this go.He can sense when something is up with me, just like I can with him.
“Was the ride awkward? Being you did something to her boobs and all?”
This pulls another snicker from me, and I roll my eyes.Pulling a beer from the ice bin, I pop the top and shuck it into the bowl Nick and Travis have going for the night.
“No. I just… we talked about Caroline.”
Nick stiffens, pausing his fake cleaning. “Damn. Haven’t heard that name in… what, fifteen years?”
It’s true. Once she and I were done, I never looked back.
“Yeah.”
“So, stuff with Indie is really getting serious, huh?”
“What? No. It was just a long drive.”
He narrows his eyes at me.
“I’m going to get some of the accounting done. I’ll see you later. I’ll buy food?”
He nods. “Oh, hey! The bank called again. I got the info and all that on your desk.”
My heart palpates, and I swallow my beer. “Oh, what did they say?”
“Nothing to me. It’s not my name on the business they called about.” His tone changed a bit as he spoke, but I wrote it off as nothing and turned for the office.
I’m going to have to figure out how to hold the bank off until this bet with Indie is in the bag, and I can pay them.Or shit with Nick is going to get hairy.
T aylor’s family estate is massive. The house is reminiscent of a farmhouse style, even though I don’t think they have an animal on the property other than Bo. I sip my beer as I watch Taylor’s chocolate lab wander beneath lawn chairs and people, looking for fallen food or the chance scratch behind the ear.
Taylor and Spencer are near the bonfire. She’s on his lap, whispering in his ear as his shit-eating grin splits his lips playfully before he tickles her. Her laugh carries down the small hill I’m on, surrounded by people from the bridal party.
Tonight was Taylor’s idea of giving us all a bit of reprieve from all the wedding festivities and being on my third beer after the catered meal we had inside has me relaxing, I will say.
“Can’t help but be envious of them,” Travis says from beside me.
Taylor told each of us we could bring a plus one, and Travis seemed like he could use a night out desperately. Though his sour mood isn’t making for good company.
“They’re tied to each other for the rest of their lives,” I grumble, turning my eyes away from the display of PDA as if I’m not thinking about just how much it would be nice to have that kind of comfort with someone.
A flicker of the fiery redhead I’ve had run-ins with dances through my brain, and I kick it away. I don’t have time to fall for a fling. Especially not one I have a deal with. If I’m going to save The Place, I need this to go as smoothly as possible.
“Sure. Whatever,” Travis says as if he doesn’t believe me.
“What’s with you?” I ask him, looking his way.
There’s been something wrong with him since I picked him up, but I didn’t want to pry.
“Nothing, man. Not my business.”
Now, a speck of anger grows in my chest as I turn on him. “What’s not your business?”
He sips his beer, shaking his head lightly as he rolls his eyes.
“Fucking out with it!” I shout a bit more than is necessary.
“When were you going to tell me the bar was in trouble? You know my livelihood depends on it!” he snaps, and I glare at him.
“Who told you that?”
“Nick’s been going on and on about the bank calling and you keeping secrets. It’s easy to figure out what’s going on. What I can’t for the life of me understand, however, is why you haven’t said anything.”
There’s a long moment where I’m staring at him, trying to decide what to say and how to say it before Taylor’s high-pitched, alcohol-ridden voice sounds as she barrels down the hill.
“Hey! There you are!”
I give Travis a look of warning to keep his mouth shut, turning to look at Taylor.
She picks up the vibes searching between Travis and me for an explanation before clearing her throat. “Indie sent me to find you.”
“Me?” I ask stupidly.
“Yeah, you. She said she needs your assistance in the bathroom.”
“What?!”
She smirks. Luckily, I don’t think she’ll remember this conversation tomorrow, but I know Travis will.
“Hey! Don’t ask me. She’s got a temper on her, though. I wouldn’t keep her waiting.”
I grumble under my breath as Taylor gives me directions to the upstairs bathroom, where Indie indicated she’s having some kind of crisis. By the time I make it up there, I can hear a commotion and the growling of the female variety behind the door. I knock, and it’s only a second before the door flies open, and she grabs the front of my flannel and tugs me inside.
“What the?—”
“I need your help, and I need you not to fucking laugh. I swear to god, Brooks…”
“What’s wrong?” My heart is pounding because of how frantic she looks. She also looks… “Are you drunk?”
Her bloodshot, glassy eyes pin to mine. “I have to pee so bad, and I’m stuck in this godforsaken romper.”
“What?!” I laugh.
“Help!” she squeaks, turning and doing a little dance back and forth.
The romper is white with green and blue florals on it. Its legs are flared at the bottom, and the way it’s making her ass look…
“Brooks! Focus!”
She’s got the back of it open, but one shoulder is stuck, and it seems she’s been in here awhile trying to get loose because there are streaks all over her alabaster skin where she’s been digging at it.
Pulling my knife from my pocket, I flick it open.
She hears the noise and turns on me. “What are you going to do with that? Jesus, why did you bring a knife to a bonfire?” She steps back, nearing the glass shower door behind her.
“I bring a knife everywhere.” I step closer, lifting my hand. “You said you needed help. I’m going to cut you free.”
“This romper cost me more than my rent!”
“And yet, I bet it’ll look better on the floor.” The words are out before I can think about them, and a flare of fire sparks in her eyes, urging me on.
I should just cut past the zipper; it’ll free her perfectly fine, but I don’t. I raise the blade and find the spot where the v-cut allows her perfect breasts to spill out the slightest bit, and I cut.
Her breathing is heavy and shallow, and one of her hands comes up and holds mine. The air between us turns electric as I free her from the romper, one rip at a time. I don’t stop, even when she’s got plenty of opening to work with. I let the knife continue to rip down over her belly. Dragging over the sensitive mound where her pussy is likely throbbing for me.
“Brooks,” she breathes, waking me from whatever stupor had come over me.
I clear my throat and step back, painfully aware of how hard my cock is behind my jeans.
“You’re free.”
She licks her lips and then peels out of the romper. It falls to the ground in a puddle as she hurries into the small little room where the solitary toilet is closed off from the rest of the room.
The door shuts, and my brain fog seems to clear now that she’s gone. Turning to look in the mirror at myself, I shake my head. I close my knife and pocket it, leaning on the counter, and sigh in disbelief at how deep I’m letting this girl dig into me.
The door squeak has my eyes darting back up to find Indie standing in the door's fissure. In nothing.
“What are you doing?” I ask her, my tone turned to a deep rasp.
She saunters over, alcohol clearly in the driver’s seat.
I turn around, back hitting the counter as she steps between my open legs, reaching up to tug my face down as she crashes her lips to mine.
“How are we going to get you out of here now that your clothes are ruined?” I ask her when she finally breaks her spellbinding lips away from mine.
“I had no plans on leaving here, Brooksie.”
I open my mouth to say something snarky back in reply, but she sinks to her knees, her hazel eyes entrancing me in her siren call as she reaches up for my belt and starts undoing it.
“I hope you locked the door,” she breathes.