Dutton
Chapter
Five
Quick movement through the glass steals my attention from my phone. I quickly slide it into my pocket and smile at Brooke as she approaches the door.
She’s normally here doing God knows what for at least an hour or two after closing, but after standing here for more than twenty minutes, I was starting to think she actually left to have a life.
I’m glad I was wrong.
My grin begins to slip the closer she gets to the door.
Um.
Brooke is mad.
That’s clear.
It’s also clear that she’s really fucking mad. Like, mad mad, as in up until this moment, I’m convinced that she’s only been pretending to be mad at me for years, because this Brooke is—
“What do you want, Dutton? Tell me, please. Why do you keep coming back here?” she snaps, the door swinging open. Every train of thought in my brain crashes to a stop.
Her eyes are a faint red, and there is a small smudge of makeup under her right eye.
She’s been crying.
There’s no doubt about that.
I might be a jerk when it comes to Brooke Sloan, and she can be a real fucking brat, but that’s where the line ends. With me.
So, for someone else in this town to say or do anything that might cause her even an ounce of pain, isn’t right.
“Have you been crying?”
Her eyes roll so hard, I can guarantee she’s going to have a headache.
“Ew, don’t ask me that as if you actually care.”
She spins away from me, clearly dismissing this conversation, but she doesn’t close the door in my face, so I figure I’m welcome to stay.
And to ask more questions.
“Tell me who made you cry.”
All right, so it’s not a question.
Her sigh could be heard two doors down.
“Just tell me why you’re here.”
“Tell me who made you cry.”
“Why?” she quips. “So you can play my knight in shining armor and defend me?”
I narrow my gaze.
What would I do?
“People shouldn’t be mean to you.”
She lets out a manic laugh.
“That’s really rich coming from you.”
“I’m the exception to the rule.”
“Lucky. Me,” she deadpans and then shrugs. “Now, please tell me what you want so you can leave.”
Her posture changes quickly from defeat to one that hints she needs to put on a show. An act that proves she’s a lot more confident on the outside than she is on the inside.
It’s relatable.
I fucking hate it.
“I need a favor,” I say, cutting to the chase. The sooner I get this over with, the sooner I can get to part two of my plans. Which, at this point, is fully dependent on Brooke agreeing to everything I’m about to say.
“From me?” she asks, and I swear to God, her smile shifts her entire mood for the better. “This is going to be good.”
She takes a seat at the closest table and waves her hand palm up toward the other chairs.
I’m not so sure this is a conversation that requires sitting, but I need her to say yes, so I sit.
Her sapphire gaze brightens a little as it latches onto mine, and then the smallest wrinkle appears on her nose, as if she’s trying to figure out what I want before I have a chance to get the words out.
“Let me guess, you got in trouble and need me to talk to my dad to get you out of it.”
I raise one brow at her.
“Okay, no to that.”
She taps her chin.
“You … want to become a police officer and need me to talk to my dad.”
Oh, hell, this could go on for hours.
“What I need has nothing to do with your father.”
At least I hope it doesn’t. Although it never occurred to me that what I need from her would more than likely mean I would have to interact with her dad. It's no secret that man hates me more than anyone else in this town.
This just goes to show how desperate I am.
“Oh, as he says in a broody tone.”
I don't much care for the way she's speaking to me, but seeing as how I still need a favor from her, I'm not going to point out that little tidbit to her.
“No. I'm not saying it with a broody tone. I'm saying it in my normal tone.”
“Could have fooled me.”
Her left shoulder lifts as she shrugs and stands. She moves to walk away from me, but I follow. I'm desperate.
“I need you to fake being my friend.”
This makes her pause. She glances over her shoulder and looks me slowly up and down.
“I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you correctly. Could you say that just one more time?”
“Oh, you heard me right the first time.”
She turns slowly, crossing her arms in front of her chest and narrowing her gaze at me.
Sassy Brooke normally turns me on, and I’d usually love the sight of her low-cut top, but not today.
Today I'm here on a mission, and I can't let the fact that I think this woman is gorgeous and that my body responds to her a lot more than it needs to, get in the way of my goal.
Which is, getting this town to like me so that my father chooses me to be the one he passes the business to.
A devilish grin takes over her luscious pink lips.
“Why?” she asks.
“Does the why really matter?”
“Of course it matters.” She huffs. “You're asking me to do something that is damn near impossible. I think I deserve to know the reason why.”
I roll my eyes. She's not wrong. If the roles were reversed, I would want to know completely. “Henry is ready to step down, and he's either going to pass the business on to Grace or me, and it seems that the fact that most of the town doesn't like me could stop me from being his first choice.”
“But Grace is one of my best friends. What makes you think I would help you just so that you could take something I know she wants?”
“Because I think we're both a great fit. And I think I deserve a fighting chance.”
Her laughter fills the quiet, empty bakery.
“Do you, now? I think there's an entire town right outside that door, which you should probably be walking through just about now, who would disagree with everything you just said.”
“Which is exactly why I'm here. I need your help.”
“As hard as I know that was to admit, I'm not helping you. If I'm going to help anybody, it's going to be Grace.”
“Come on, Brooke. Do you hate me that much?”
“I mean, yeah, why not?”
“Exactly why? I never did anything to you.”
“Oh, you did plenty to me. You were the reason my father missed out on a lot of things that were important to me.”
That was the last thing I was expecting her to say.
I figured it was something along the lines of, oh, my favorite flower shop, you broke their windows.
Or do you remember that one time that you did this, this, or that?
But no, she's mad at me because I stole time she could have had with her father.
Shit, that's actually a pretty good reason to hate somebody.
And now I still need her to do me a favor. How am I going to swing this?
“Let me ask you this, Brooke. Have you ever wanted something so badly that you would do anything to get it? Say anything to anyone. Do anything for anyone. Even if it means going to the person you know dislikes you more than anyone else in this town. Just because you want it that badly.”
Her hesitance to respond is the only reason I keep going.
“That's me and the lodge. Yes, that place is thriving because Henry has done wonderful things for it, but I can do better things. I know Grace could, too. I just need you to trust me that I'm the better fit for the future of the lodge.”
Brooke doesn’t miss a beat.
“Grace is a better fit for the lodge. She's friendly, and everyone already loves her.”
Which is exactly why I want to keep someone like her from finding out the truth. If I had it my way, no one would ever know what Henry has done.
“Grace is an amazing sister, and she would be great, but Brooke, I need your help. I need to make this happen. Please.”
She hesitates again.
I might have her where I need her.
“Just tell me what you need from me and I’ll make it happen, Brooke.”
Her eyes lock onto mine as she bites her bottom lip, clearly thinking it over.
You could hear a pin drop in this bakery.
Just when I think she’s going to agree, her chin drops to her chest and she shakes her head.
“Sorry, Dutton, I can’t help you.”
My brain tells me to keep pushing, but the defeat in her voice hits me in the chest, so I keep my mouth shut.
They say timing is everything, and it seems I picked the wrong time to ask her for this.
I step back toward the door.
“Well, you know where to find me if you change your mind.”
“I won’t,” she says quickly, keeping her head down.
She lifts a hand to brush against her cheek, and I have a suspicion that she’s crying again.
It makes me want to stay.
It makes me want to … to … make her life easier, even if just for a moment.
So, I leave before she asks me to.
How I’m going to win this town over should be at the front of my mind as I drive back to the lodge to finish my day.
Nope. Instead, all I can think about is finding out who made Brooke cry and how in hell I can fix it.