Brooke
Chapter
Ten
Like the last time he came over, Dutton lets himself right in through my front door.
“Getting comfortable?” I ask.
I'd been sitting on the couch waiting for him.
And I hate to admit it, but a part of me is a little excited that he wanted to come over again.
Yes, I love when the girls are here, but there's just something different about Dutton.
Almost as if I get to have a friend who doesn't expect anything from me.
A fresh start with a new friend. I don't know how else to describe it.
The last time he was here, I sat next to him on the couch, but that's not where he chooses to sit. Nope, he sits in a recliner across from me.
“What's on your to-do list for today?” His tone suggests he wants to get this over with, and it’s not the, dare I say, friendly tone he’d been using last night. To be fair, he didn’t have to come today.
“Today, I thought maybe we could discuss how we're going to play this out on more outings in the town.
The bar was interesting, so I think we need to be a little bit more prepared.
Our ‘let's just chill and be casual because that's how friends do it’ approach was fine, but I was not prepared for all the staring.”
Dutton groans. “There was so much staring.”
“Right? Okay, good. I thought maybe it was just me.”
“No. It was weird.”
“All right, so we need a better plan.”
“Or we just need to hang out more in public and then it won’t be weird anymore.”
“That’s fair, but being at my house the other night also worked, so …”
“So, we do both,” Dutton says, as if it were that simple.
And it is. I guess.
“We’ll do both,” I agree and then open my laptop.
“Did you move your list to your computer?” Dutton asks with a laugh.
“No.”
“So what are you doing?”
“Working.”
“Right now?”
“Yes.”
“I thought we were hanging out.”
“We are. You can get your computer out and work if you want, too.”
Dutton groans.
“I worked all day. Why would I want to work right now?”
I glance up, noticing that he doesn't even have his phone in his hand.
A fully present man.
Even more interesting.
“I work a lot,” I tell him. “I would think that of all people, you’d understand that.”
“Yeah, but I know how to turn it off once I get home.”
My fingers pause on the keyboard.
“Maybe that’s the difference between owning your own business and inheriting one already built for you,” I say.
“No. Don’t play that card with me. I put in my time just as well as the next guy, probably even more. I’m just fully aware there is a line that needs to be drawn. My work life and my personal life are separate. So, I leave work at work.”
“But …” The word floats off my tongue.
Every word of his makes sense, and I should agree, but if I'm not constantly working at the bakery or doing something to help it grow, I feel like I’m letting it down.
I’m fully aware that this is a pressure I place on myself, but I can’t shut it off.
I’m too far in.
I don’t know how.
“But what?” Dutton prompts me.
Instead of answering him, I shrug.
“Come on, just tell me.”
I take a breath.
I mean, really, what's it going to hurt if I tell him? I don’t care if he judges me, and whatever advice he gives me won’t matter, because it’s not like we are real friends.
Yet.
The fact that he won’t just let this go is something a friend would do, right?
“I guess that if I have free time and I’m not using it to actively grow my business, then it’s wasted time. My brain likes to think I’d be further in my career if I took fewer breaks.”
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I hate how sad they sound.
Saying something out loud can sometimes make you look at things from a new perspective.
Except, all it makes me think right now is that Dutton is judging me.
The way his eyes never stray from mine. The way his chest rises as he thinks over my words.
His stare lasts far too long, and yet I can’t seem to pull my eyes away.
Moments ago, I said I didn’t care what he thought, but the inner dip of his brow makes me desperate to know what he’s thinking.
Finally, I take a deep breath.
“Say something,” I blurt and find it inside of me to break eye contact.
Like before, he doesn’t say anything, but slowly, he rests his arms on the tops of his thighs and leans toward me.
“I have an idea.”
It’s not what I expected him to say, but then again, I didn’t really know what he was going to say.
“Okay…”
“But it involves us leaving the house, and you’re going to have to trust me.”
The left side of my mouth twitches into a smile.
Trust Dutton Richford.
Ha.
In all the years I’ve known him, trusting him has never been at the top of my list.
“I see those wheels turning, Books.”
He stands up and holds out his hand, and it takes me a moment as I swoon over the nickname he gave me last night. No one has ever given me a nickname outside of the standard B for my name. But this one I love.
I just won’t tell him that.
“Come on. I’ll have you back in two hours tops, and you can work your little heart to its max desires on whatever you deem fit for your evening.”
The bubble of laughter that escapes me makes him grin, and he stretches his hand closer to me.
“Come on now, let’s get moving.”
On a groan, I place my hand in his, and he jerks me up as if I weigh nothing.
I reach a hand up to stop myself before my body hits flush to his, but as soon as my palm rests flat to his chest, he steps back.
“I’ll drive,” he announces and heads for the front door.
I stand there for a moment, my heart hammering in my chest and my focus on my hand. At the tingles still coursing through it from the two-second touch with Dutton.
I’m not sure how long I stand there, but the horn honking outside snaps me to attention.
I rush to the door, slip my sneakers on, and grab a jacket. I’m wearing a pink T-shirt and leggings. He didn’t say I needed to change, so I guess this will have to do.
I catch a view of my appearance in the mirror by the door and let out a sigh.
The bun I put my hair in this morning has begun to fall out, and there are wisps of hair all around my face. At least my makeup is still going strong.
I grab my crossbody purse, rush out the door, and lock it behind me.
I jog to the passenger door of his truck and climb in.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“It’s a surprise,” he tells me.
I grin.
“I love surprises.”
To that, he only chuckles.
“Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t change and decided to grab my tennis shoes instead of sandals.”
“Yes, that’s a good call.”
We both climb out of his truck as I stare at the trail in front of us.
“Has this always been out here?” I ask.
Dutton drove us through town, past the lodge, then past the marina Shay and Luca own, and kept driving.
By the time he started to make the loop around Lovers Lake, I was starting to think he was just taking us on a joy ride.
But then his blinker came on, and I started to lose track of the number of turns he took to get us here.
I’ve been to a lot of places around Lovers, but this, the green trees, the waterfall nearby judging from the sound, and the picnic tables that are slightly hidden, tucked into the trees … I’ve never seen it before.
“Probably.”
He grabs a couple of waters from the bed of his truck and hands me one. I raise a brow for him to go on and explain how he found this place.
“I used to come here a lot during high school. It’s private, and not once was I interrupted.”
“Oh.” It’s starting to make sense. He brought girls here.
“You know what I mean,” he says, holding my gaze.
I shake my head.
“Oh, come on, we live in a small town and never get privacy.”
I hold my hands up.
“You don’t have to explain it to me.”
He chuckles.
“Clearly, I do.”
“No really, I get it, you came up here to—"
“To be alone,” he finishes for me.
The shock on my face can’t be faked.
“Oh.”
“Didn’t you have a place like that?”
Again, I shake my head.
“My mom left us, my sister left us, and my dad is the town sheriff. I had plenty of time to myself. Probably too much.”
I want to look away because when he stares at me this way, I feel confused as to how I’m supposed to feel. Like, I never want him to look away, but he can read everything though going through my mind, and I can’t have that.
“So, are we hiking?” I say to break the spell.
“Yep, but it’s not far.”
I do a few stretches and then try my best to keep up with him as we begin on a steep hill. I slip a couple of times, Dutton reaching back and lending a hand to help me.
It’s weird to know this spot is out here, so close to home, and I’ve never seen it.
Despite the fall weather itching to begin changing the color of the leaves, the trees and plants are still lush, making me feel like I’m on another planet.
I glance in front of me a few times, taking in how this hike takes zero toll on Dutton's breathing. But you know what it has taken its toll on? His ass.
Yes. With each step, I can't help but watch the muscles in his butt tighten and do their job as if they have done this a hundred times before.
“Brooke, did you hear me?” Dutton stops and turns, and I have to avert my eyes quickly to not be caught gawking.
“What?”
“Are you okay? Do we need to take a break?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
“So, what did you say?” I ask, certain I’m in the clear. He didn’t notice my ogling.
“I said, we have about half a mile left.”
“Cool. That’s great.”
He keeps walking, and about two minutes of silence pass before he asks, “How’s my ass look?”
I let out a bark of a laugh and give him no response.
He glances over his shoulder with a grin but doesn’t tease me further.
“I thought I was in better shape than this,” I admit when we reach a plateau and he turns down a different trail.
“You'll get used to it.”
“Oh, do we plan on hiking this often?”
“Yes, we do,” Dutton answers as if my question doesn't surprise him.
I almost bump into him when he stops, and when I back up and take my place next to him, the view in front of us steals my breath.
You can see all of Lovers and more from here.
“Holy shit,” I say and then squat to sit down.