39. Brooke
Brooke
Beck drove Meemaw and me back home after our ice cream and instructed me to grab a swimsuit, shorts, and a shirt that could get wet.
I knew I needed all that and closed-toe shoes from the checklist at work, but I still feel a little concerned that if I’m not going on a paid tour, something crazy is going to happen.
My fingers find their way into my hair again.
Meemaw watches me as I collect everything I need. “Honey,” she calls out. “Do you really not trust him still?”
I frown and sit in the kitchen chair next to her. “What do you mean?”
“Your hair, Brookie.” She gently reaches out a hand and pulls my hand away from my roots. “Is trust why you always like to be the one who plans everything?”
I swallow. Grandmotherly wisdom I don’t want to hear is forthcoming.
“You know that you can trust him. And his friends. And the people here. You know that. So let go a little, Brookie, and enjoy the adventure. You don’t have to control everything.”
My mouth drops open.
Beck knocks on the front door and then lets himself in. My mouth still hangs open from Meemaw’s wisdom, but when my eyes turn to Beck, my jaw would have dropped anyway.
He wears a black Dri-FITshort-sleeve shirt and black swim trunks with tiny classic cars printed all over, but if that wasn’t enough, the black baseball cap with the WVU School of Medicine perched backward on his head would have done me in.
Beck dresses casually, despite being a doctor, but I’ve never seen him look like this.
He blinks his brown eyes at me a few times, and I shake my head to clear the shock of how attractive he is even in this attire. Meemaw laughs.
“Doctor got your tongue, Brookie?” she needles, then adds in a low voice, “I’m sure he will before the day is out.”
“Meemaw!” I hiss while Beck snickers. I’m glad Beck knows Meemaw’s a meddlesome woman whose filter disintegrated at least six decades ago, if she ever had one.
“Ready?” Beck asks, his eyes twinkling in amusement.
“Yep.” I stand up from the chair, and it’s Beck’s turn to gape. My swimsuit is modest by every stretch of the imagination, but I’m thrilled he clearly finds me attractive in the short-style bottoms and short-sleeved pink top I threw over my bathing suit tank.
“No babies yet, you two,” Meemaw says, and Beck shakes his head before smiling.
“I know, I know, Miss June. Rings first, babies later.”
He extends a hand to me, and I take it.
Beck doesn’t drive us to the RAFT headquarters. Instead, he drives us along the New River until we reach a secluded turn-off from the road tucked into a copse of Virginia pines.
“I thought we’d meet at work,” I say as Beck switches the ignition off.
“Nah. This is where the locals put in.”
I take in the empty gravel lot. “But where are the others?”
An old SUV and a newer truck pulling off the road drown out my question. Logan and Ben hop out of the older SUV, but the blue truck catches my attention.
I pause for a moment and then run to it.
Matt opens the door.
“Matt!” I shout and launch at my twin in a bear hug. “How did you end up here? What are you doing? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” I can’t help it, I’m speaking in twin.
Matt squeezes me back and then steps out of my embrace.
“Melanie and I came down to visit and see how you’re doing.
” He doesn’t speak in twin, and I’m upset about it for a moment, but then I turn and catch sight of Melanie, who stands shyly off to the side in a bright blue one-piece.
“And this guy named Logan called us and asked us if we’d like to come rafting with you and your boy. ”
“My boy?”
He nods. “His words, not mine.”
I catch Logan smiling bemusedly from beside Beck and Ben as he fills up a raft with an air pump. He hands the pump to Ben and hops over the partially inflated raft as Ben takes over.
“Did we surprise you?” he asks as he crosses the lot to me. “I’ve heard you hate them, but this seemed like a good one.”
“I don’t hate surprises. I just don’t prefer them,” I retort. “And yes, you did, and I’ll accept this surprise.”
“Good,” Logan says before he turns his blindingly white smile on Melanie. “Hey, I’m Logan. You ever been white water rafting before?”
“Twice,” Melanie replies, surprising me. Maybe my assumption she’s a shrinking violet was wrong.
“Awesome. This is going to be just for fun, and this isn’t a commercial run, so let’s do it.”
Ben and Beck pick up the inflated raft and carry it to the river bank. Beck jumps into the water and holds the raft steady as the water laps at his shins.
Ben returns to the old SUV and grabs helmets from the back seat before shouting, “Hey, everyone, come grab your helmets and PFDs.” He puts the helmet on the ground and directs the next part of his speech toward the water.
“I’d rather not wear these, but someone insisted.
Apparently brain injuries are an E.R. doctor’s nightmare. ”
I have to laugh at Ben’s commentary, clearly meant for Beck.
Beck shouts back, “You’ll be thanking me when they save your life, man.”
“Don’t come at me with the helmet on a motorcycle garbage again,” Ben yells back before he lowers his voice and says to me, “Your boy used to be the wildest of us all. Now, he won’t even let us think about doing something dangerous without safety gear.”
My eyebrows hike up my forehead as I place my helmet on.
“Really?” I ask, glancing toward the water where Beck holds the raft patiently. I hold my orange life jacket by the straps. “He was wild?”
“Oh … the stories I could tell you.” He tips his head toward Beck. “But I think he’d rather tell you. Maybe you should ask him about the time we—”
“Are you coming, or am I just going to stand here all day holding onto this boat?” Beck yells.
Ben smirks at me before pulling a stack of brightly colored paddles out of the back seat and holding them up across his body like a drilling soldier.
“Ask him about his college days, Brooke. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised that our doctor Beckett Whistler isn’t the uptight man he seems to be. ”
I take a moment to digest this news. What could Beck have been like as a college student, a teen, and a little boy?
I don’t know a lot about his past, except that he was in a serious relationship with Addie, and then she left him at the altar.
And his sister made him despise snakes. Somehow, the calm and reserved man in the water has my heart, and somehow, even though I don’t know all of his past, I know enough about the present to know he’s good.
And enough about his friends that a wild streak makes perfect sense.
With nothing else to do to prepare for the trip, I follow Ben to the river.
Logan is already there, helmet on his head, but the strap unbuckled at his chin.
The jaunty way it sits atop his blond hair makes him look like a movie star in a WWII film.
Beck’s helmet is secured under his chin, and Matt and Melanie stand on the rocks with their arms around each other’s waists, taking a selfie.
“Oh, this is perfect!” Melanie squeals as she clicks the button again, and again, and again, trying a different face with each shot. For the last one, she leans over and plants a kiss on Matt’s cheek.
I resist the urge to gag, but just barely. That’s my twin brother.
Matt’s eyes take in Melanie with such affection, I am immediately transported to a future at their wedding.
In this vision, though, I don’t sit alone.
In fact, I’m not even sitting. In my dream scenario, I’m dancing in the very strong arms of a certain Doctor Beckett Whistler. It’s not an unpleasant daydream.
“Everyone good?” Logan calls, pulling me from my daydreams. His demeanor is calm, but I sense that he’s ready, and maybe even a little excited about this. “Brooke, you good in the bow?”
I shake my head to clear the mental image away and focus on the task at hand. Beck tips his head to the side as he studies me. I don’t know if he can see my thoughts, but when I meet his gaze, he breaks into a grin. It’s just him , completely at ease in this moment.
His deep voice calls out, “Brooke? You good in the front?” and reminds me I didn’t give a response to Logan.
“Sure,” I say as I climb over the rocks and stand on the opposite side of the raft from Beck.
“Hop in.” Beck raises his chin to indicate the front seat on the left side of the raft.
I start to climb in, and though the water isn’t deep, long legs are not something I was genetically gifted. I maintain that Matt stole all the height genes in the womb and have made it my mission to beat him in every competitive event possible since.
I try to hook my leg over the side, but I slip in the water and fall back, landing with a splash on my back.
“Brooke?” Beck’s by my side in an instant. I’m completely fine, just a bit shocked to be on my back when, a moment ago, I was trying to mount the raft. Beck’s strong arms pull me up so I’m sitting in the river. “Are you ok?” he whispers as his worried eyes scan me for injury.
“Yeah,” I say, taking a breath before standing up. Before I stand all the way, I cup my hand under the water and bring it up fast. Water splashes on Beck’s neck, and he startles.
When he turns an incredulous gaze toward me, I smile sweetly and begin to clamber into the boat. Unfortunately, it’s now even more slippery after my fall.
Matt snickers, and Logan laughs as I slide down the side.
Suddenly, warm hands are on my waist, and I’m hoisted into the boat. It’s not dignified, but I slither over the side with the extra help from Beck.
Matt and Melanie sit in the middle, each holding their paddle, and Ben and Logan sit in the back. I adjust my swim shorts and then accept the paddle Matt passes me.
“You better not fall out in the rapids, or you’ll never get back in,” Matt teases.
I don’t say anything, just swing my paddle around so that if he wasn’t paying attention, the top part of the oar would whack his helmet. He ducks, and I roll my eyes.
“Hey, no swinging paddles!” Logan calls from the back.
“That rule can’t possibly apply to twins,” I call back.
“Fair enough, I’d whack Lynette if she was giving me a hard time too. Siblings get a pass on the paddle rule.”
Ben shakes his head at his friend as Beck pulls the boat into deeper water. In a move entirely too deft for the reserved man I’ve known, he leans one arm on the edge of the boat and then elegantly jumps in.