34. Brooke
Chapter thirty-four
Brooke
I slide my key into the front door of Marcus’ house after a long day with Emma and Charlotte. We’ve been back from our trip for three days now and thinking their product would take off after being on a national morning show was a severe underestimation. Bar owners and managers all across the country have been calling us non-stop, giving us no time to come up for air, and withholding any opportunity for Marcus and I to connect away from the chaos.
As much as I love that my temporary living arrangement includes one of my best friends, I would kill for a night alone with Marcus. We’ve shared his bed, but not in the way I’ve been craving considering we haven’t slept more than four hours a night and Maci and Dean have been here. That means we also haven’t had any time to discuss our future, including plans for me to move to Oregon permanently and what that looks like. Tonight isn’t the night for it either, though. Despite my desire for alone time, I am excited to meet his sister.
I twist the key in the lock, turning the knob as I do. A young girl’s voice comes from down the hallway. “Uncle Dean!” she screams at the same time Marcus’ deep voice booms past the wood divider, “We’re in here!”
Closing the door behind me, I slip my flats off and walk down the entryway hall. When I reach the living room couch on the right, the back of Marcus’ head comes into view. It’s covered with plastic pastel butterfly clips—the kind my mom never bought me because she said bows were more classy. There’s a little girl sitting in front of him on the floor, half of her hair in a perfect French braid, and the other almost completed as Marcus twists the dark brown strand a shade lighter than her skin. It’s the cutest thing I’ve seen and almost makes my ovaries explode.
Marcus turns, pinching the partially braided hair in his fingers. “Brooke.” His rough voice strongly contrasts the image of him with butterfly barrettes clipped into his hair tied loosely in a knot at his neck. He shoots me a tired grin, happy to see me.
Mira turns too, nearly pulling her braid from Marcus’ hand. He tries to quickly band the elastic over the end before she squirms away from him and stands but fails. With a chuckle, he tosses the hair tie on the coffee table in defeat.
“Hiiii,” she says as she runs toward me, halting right before she crashes.
Before I have a chance to speak, the front door clicks open again. “Hello!” the man’s voice bellows, and with a kick of his foot against the wood, the door opens further revealing Dean.
“Uncle Dean!” the girl yells, forgetting completely about me as she hurtles toward him, the strands at the end of her untied braid unraveling slightly. He barely has time to set down the ice cream on the entryway table before sweeping her into his arms and spinning her in a circle .
“How’s my favorite girl?”
She giggles. “I’m not your favorite girl. That’s Aunt Maci.”
“You were my girl first,” he says, kissing her on top of her head before gently setting her feet back on the ground.
“Oh yeah. First is way better,” she points out confidently, then turns to check out the ice cream.
Dean glances up to me at the end of the hall. Marcus has made his way to me, standing a step back. “Who is ready for a sleepover?” He looks back at Mira.
“Me, me, me!” she screams, trying to pry the top off the ice cream carton with her little hands.
“How was today?” Dean asks, referring to the meeting Marcus had with the warehouse about speeding and multiplying production.
“Good,” Marcus says, exhausted.
I watch Dean take us both in. “You two look like you could use a nap.” He turns to Mira, bending to her level. “Mira.” The girl’s focus stays on the pint of ice cream she’s managed to get the top off on her own. “Mira,” Dean repeats.
“Yes?” She turns toward him as she digs her finger into the top layer of bright blue dessert.
“What do you think about coming with me? We can have a sleepover with Aunt Maci instead.” “Can we invite baby Canaan too?” she asks.
“She’s with him right now.”
“And we can bring the ice cream? And my butterfly clips?” She looks at him with wide eyes.
“Duh. It’s not a sleepover without them.”
“Yay!” She squeals. “Is Marcus coming too?”
“I was thinking we could let your brother take a nap with Brooke. They’re really tired. What do you think? ”
The mention of my name reminds her she hasn’t actually met me yet, and she reluctantly abandons the ice cream to make her way to me. “Hi, I’m Mira.”
I bend to her level. “It’s nice to meet you, Mira. I’m Brooke.”
She throws her arms around my neck, squeezing me tight. I wrap my arms around her tiny waist, hugging her until she pulls back. “I don’t have to take naps anymore.” I laugh at the irony of naps being acceptable for the ages that don’t appreciate them. “Do you want me to leave you some butterfly clips? Marcus is really good at doing hair after it gets all messed up from sleeping.”
The boys both chuckle, but I keep it together. “That’s okay. You can bring them to Maci. Thank you, though.”
Her eyes widen at my mention of my friend. “Do YOU know my Aunt Maci?!”
“I sure do. I met her in Thailand. Do you know where that is?”
“Is that by Spain? Uncle Dean and Aunt Maci brought me back presents from there.”
I laugh. “No. Why don’t you ask her to show you pictures when you get there?” Part of me wants to hang out with her, get to know her. I know she’s important to Marcus, but more of me just wants a quiet house alone with him. By his lack of objection, I’m guessing he wants the same.
“I will! It’s nice to meet you, Brooke. I hope you have a fun sleepover.” With that, she tugs on Dean’s hand. “Let’s goooooooo. Bye, Marcus.” She waves at her brother with her free hand.
Marcus leaves the room, coming back only a moment later with a small My Little Pony backpack and hands it off to Dean .
“Avery and Miller are out of town for the night, so Maci and I will just stay there. We’ll meet you for breakfast at Brail’s in the morning?”
“Sounds good. Thanks, man. I owe you one.”
Dean smirks as Mira tugs on his hand again. He lets her pull him toward the door.
“Be good,” Marcus calls after his sister. Once the door closes behind them I turn to him.
“I feel bad about bailing. We should hang out with them.”
He steps closer, pulling me to him. I press my hands to his chest and meet his gaze. “Nah. Dean’s got her. She loves him just as much.”
“I don’t know,” I say, reaching to pull a butterfly clip from his hair. “She seems pretty fond of you.”
“I’m pretty fond of you .”
“Is that so?” I grin, plucking the other four clips from his hair as well and tossing them on the couch behind him. “I happen to be partial to you myself.”
“It’s been a good week.” He tucks a wave of my hair behind my ear. “ A long week. I haven’t seen nearly enough of you.”
“Well, I suppose it's a good thing that Dean forced a nap into our schedule the–”
And then his lips are on mine, like a response would take too much precious time away from kissing me. He pushes me backward, my back thudding against the hallway wall.
I break our kiss, but only enough to speak. “Hey, what if I actually needed a nap?” I smile against his lips, but he doesn’t show any signs of playfulness.
“I’d say too damn bad.”
“Oh, yeah? What would you rather do?”
“Let’s just say you’ll be tied up for the foreseeable future.” He smirks .
“Finally.” I grin and kiss him again. A gasp escapes when he grips my thighs and hoists me up. I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs tight around his waist. Burying my face in his shoulder as he carries me down the hall to his room, I bite his neck, and he groans. I sooth it with a kiss, anxious to have his hands all over me–and his mouth.