Dutton
Chapter
Nine
“You need to stop fidgeting,” Brooke reminds me for probably the tenth time since we sat down at the bar top at Hudson's bar.
I lean into her. “I can't help it. People are staring, and I hate it when people are staring.”
The lightest laugh comes from her lips.
“Well, that's funny coming from a man who did so many things to draw attention to himself in his senior year.”
“Well, I'm not the same kid I was back then. I'm a man now.”
“I'm a man now,” she mimics me and then waves as Hudson, one of my good buddies, approaches us. Hudson is also married to Sadie, one of Brooke’s best friends.
“Yeah.” Hudson scratches the back of his neck. “I'm not really sure what to ask right here. So how about I just see what the two of you would like to drink.”
“The usual,” I say and then glance at Brooke. I have no idea what her usual would be. And a friend would know this.
“I'll have a Tito's and soda, please.”
She would. Such a dainty drink. But it fits her. I like it.
Despite the music playing and the chatter of all the other patrons, an awkward silence floats between not just Brooke and me, but between the two of us and Hudson as he mixes our drinks together.
Should I ask her a question?
What do I do?
This is a supposed test run of how people are going to act when they see us in public, but I'm not so sure we are prepared enough for this.
I make eye contact with Hudson as he sets our drinks down, and I know he has a list full of questions. But he doesn't ask them right at this moment. Instead, he leaves Brooke and I to ourselves. I take a sip, and then clear my throat.
“So, how was your day?” I ask, and the vodka Brooke just sipped sprays out in front of her.
She covers her mouth and looks at me with wide panicked eyes. Then she bursts into laughter.
“That's how you want to start this?”
“Well, fuck, Brooke. Is that not how friends would go about their evening together when they get to the bar?”
“Well, I mean, usually with the girls, we have some sort of gossip, I guess you would call it, to talk about. Or an update of things going on in our lives, but considering you and I have neither of those things, sure, okay. How was your day?”
I raise my left brow as I stare at her. “I asked you first.”
“Oh, it's like that. Okay, sure. I spent half of my day completing forms to hopefully save my financial identity in the future from somebody else who decides they want to steal it and take all my hopes and dreams with them. The other half I spent at the bakery, pretending I couldn’t see the stares of locals waiting for me to spill the beans on the town's latest. Ergo, you and me and this newfound friendship.” She takes down two gulps of her drink and then looks at me. “Your turn.”
Shit, that explains a lot about why she needs money. I want to ask more, but asking about her personal life leads to her asking more about mine, and we both know that—or at least I know—I'm not ready to divulge much information quite yet.
“My day was normal. I woke up, worked out, ate some breakfast, went to work, had some lunch, and then worked some more. Now I'm here.
“Ooh, that sounds like an amazing day. Bet you can't wait to own that place.”
“Are you always this sarcastic, or is all that sass reserved for me?”
She grins. “It’s fifty-fifty."
I shake my head and take another drink from my beer. Despite my better judgment, I say, “So I take it this stolen identity issue is why you’re helping me.”
“Helping myself? Yes.”
Noted. She refuses to act as if she’s doing me a favor. I guess it doesn’t really matter how she sees it, as long as she’s helping. Which brings me back to the other part of her day.
“When I texted you, you said everything at the bakery was fine.”
“And it was,” she replies.
Hudson reappears to take our dinner order, and we both get burgers with fries.
“If people were coming in to pester you about me, it doesn’t sound like everything was fine.”
I twist to face her because I get the feeling that showing weakness of any kind isn’t Brooke’s thing. Perhaps I'll be able to catch a tell to see what she’s really thinking.
Her shoulders drop as she sighs and looks at me.
“The bakery was busier today than it has been in months.”
“I didn't think business was lacking for the bakery.”
“It’s not,” she snaps defensively. “But clearly, the thought of you and I was enough to get more people in, and despite the looks, I’d do it over and over if it meant business was this good every day.”
“I get that, but people need to mind their own business.”
Brooke rolls her eyes at me and then smiles as she bumps her shoulder to mine. “Come on, Dutton, you know better than anyone else that in a small town, everyone knows just about everything about everyone else.”
Yeah, and it’s annoying as fuck.
“I still stand by my answer, but if it helps, my day wasn't exactly enjoyable either.”
“No, how so?”
“I sat with about four different brides and their mothers and mothers-in-law and tried samples of cakes or cookies or cupcakes. This part might delight you. Our chef at the lodge, he can do a lot of things and he's very gifted, but baking a dessert is not where his skills shine.”
I side-eye Brooke to gauge her reaction. Her lips are pressed as she tries not to smile.
“It's okay, you can smile. Despite the relationship we've had over the years, I still recommend you to people, and people still love to rub it in our faces at the lodge that you have the best cakes in this town.”
“Well, I mean, it's the truth.”
“Can't argue with that.” I let out a small chuckle and notice that Hudson's staring at me from across the bar. But it's not just him this time. His twin brothers Luca and Miles, his future brother-in-law Declan, and Linc, another good buddy of ours, have joined him for the viewing.
Fuck.
I'm not going to hear the end of this. Maybe I'll have to skip the next basketball game with the guys. Which sucks, because I actually enjoy the fact that I get together with the boys. I hate that I call it the boys, but you know, beggars can't be choosers. And the day that Luca, Hudson’s brother, forced me to start showing up to his impromptu boys’ night was actually something good in my life.
I clear my throat and glance back at Brooke.
She's playing on her phone as if I weren’t here at all.
To be fair, making conversation with someone you've avoided for most of these years is complicated. Don’t get me wrong, when we get onto a subject, the back-and-forth goes easy, but finding a subject is the tricky part.
And right now, I get the vibe that talking about our day isn’t what either of us truly wants to be discussing.
I sit up and look over my shoulder toward the bookstore Sadie owns. Considering the number of books in Brooke’s house, I’d say this is a safe subject.
“So, do you like to read your books on your phone, or do you like to go into the store right there and grab one off the shelf?”
Slowly, Brooke puts her phone down and looks at me. The gleam in her eyes and the way her lips tug to the right tell me she’s amused by my change of topic. But she bites.
“Am I an e-book reader or a paperback reader? Is that what you're asking me?”
“Sure.”
“I'm both. Depends on where I am.”
“Noted.”
“Do you read?” she asks.
“I don't really have a ton of time for it.”
“But if you could read, would you?”
“Probably.”
“What would you read?”
“I don't know, Brooke. I didn't realize the subject of reading would turn into us playing twenty questions.”
She lets out a long sigh. “Really, Dutton? The whole point of this is for us to get to know each other.” She leans in closer, her body pressing against mine.
“And we have to get to know each other. I'm not faking this friendship.
I'm not just going to sit here and pretend like we're friends if you're not even going to make an effort. I’m starting to regret the nice things I said about you today to Mrs. Buckley.”
She talked to Mrs. Buckley about me? Shit. I’m starting to think a lot more happens in Brooke's day than she’s going to tell me. And if she’s already putting in the work to help me, the least I could do is try to be less of a dick.
I nod. “You're right. I'm sorry. I'm doing my best.”
A moment passes, the two of us just staring at each other.
Her blue eyes have a little extra shine. Is that from the fact that she finished her drink so quickly?
Her cheeks begin to turn a light shade of pink.
This should be weird, right? Two people just sitting here looking at the other and not talking.
But oddly enough … it’s not.
She breaks the trance first.
“Come on.” She slides off her barstool, grabs my hand, and pulls me behind her. “Let's pick out my next read. Then maybe I can help you pick one out. And next time you're at my house, we could set a timer or something to read at the same time.”
“We're going to get together to … read?”
“That is something I would enjoy doing. So yes.”
“Sounds eventful,” I say, but she ignores me.
As soon as we cross into the bookstore, Sadie glances up from behind the checkout counter.
Her grin is ear to ear as she watches Brooke and I approach.
“Hi,” she says, and I swear her smile only grows.
“Hi.” Brooke lets go of my hand, forcing me to follow now of my own free will. Which I do as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Sadie meets her halfway to give her a hug. “How’s your day going?”
“Boring, until now,” is Sadie’s answer as her gaze shifts back to me.
“Hi, Dutton.” Sadie crosses her arms and does a piss-poor job at hiding how entertained she is at the idea of Brooke and I being friends, but at the same time, she’s clearly not as surprised as one would be at just learning this news.
Which means Brooke has already spoken to her friends about this. About me. And that intrigues me.
What did she tell them?
If it were the full truth, my phone would have already been blowing up with texts and phone calls from my sister.
I pull my gaze from Sadie and pin it to Brooke, who is walking away toward the bookshelves.