Brooke #2
Dutton sits next to me, his feet flat and arms hanging around his knees.
“Yeah. This view never gets old.”
My eyes land on the lodge, the cabins extending in a horseshoe shape along the lake. It’s huge, even from here. Then my eyes fall to the mountain opposite the lodge.
Lovers truly is a one-of-a-kind place. Seeing it from here is a great reminder of everything I have access to that I don’t take advantage of but should.
“It’s gorgeous. I’m jealous you’ve known about it all these years and never told me.”
“Oh, from all the talking we used to do.”
I bump him with my shoulder.
“Exactly.”
“Well, you might not be so jealous when you find out how I found this place.”
His voice is light as his chin drops to his chest.
“I’ve never told anyone this,” he starts. “Not even my brother or sisters, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
My heart starts to pound. He’s about to trust me with something huge. I reach over and rest my hand on his forearm to assure him he can trust me.
When he looks at me, his eyes are light green, the way they used to be when we were younger, and that alone tugs at my heartstrings and has tears threatening to fall.
“I found this place the first time I caught my dad cheating on my mom.”
Holy shit.
I suck in a breath, my hand flying to my chest.
The first time.
My mouth opens, but there are no words.
Shit. What do you say to someone in this situation? Sorry. Wow. That must have been so hard all feel like a pathetic response.
Instead of words, I scoot closer to him, rest my head on his shoulder, and loop my arm with his.
“How old were you?” I ask, even though I have a feeling I know the answer.
“Seventeen, and it … changed … everything.”
He blows out a breath.
“I didn’t know if I should tell my mom or confront my dad and demand he tell her.”
He holds his head up high. “When I finally decided to ask him about it first, he told me I was lying, I saw nothing, and I needed to get back to what I do best… go practice with the football in the backyard. Stop imagining things, Dutton, is what he said as I rushed out his office door.”
The arm I'm looped around drops, causing our hands to touch, pinky to pinky. This is unfamiliar territory for me with him, but not touching him right now feels wrong. I brush his finger with mine as he goes on.
“So, I went on a run, and I ran and ran and somehow found this place. I sat here for an hour before I decided that I didn’t want to hurt my mom.
She’s amazing and the sweetest woman I’ve ever met, but if I saw my dad do this again, I would go straight to her.
So, I went home, and that night, sitting at the dinner table, I knew my dad would never look at me the same. ”
“I’m so sorry, Dutton. I know those words mean nothing to you, but you were just a kid, and you should never have been put in that position. Especially not by a parent.”
He nods.
“I agree, but as you said, I was a kid, and a week later, I saw my father buying roses at Mrs. Buckley’s flower shop.
I remember thinking, okay, good, he came to his senses, but that night at dinner, there were no roses in my house for my mom.
Nor the next week when I saw him there again, or the week after that. ”
Oh, no. It’s starting to make sense.
“Logic now tells me that Mrs. Buckley had no idea she was helping my dad have an affair, but the kid I was didn’t think that way when he broke in and cut up and smashed every flower in her store, a few of the glass coolers, too.”
I close my eyes, and a tear slips for a kid who, it’s very clear, our entire town has judged for all the wrong reasons.
“Hey,” Dutton says, softly placing a hand under my chin and forcing me to look at him. His hand then cups my face, his thumb swiping the tears away for me. “Don’t cry over that story.”
“I’m not crying over the story. I’m crying for you. You deserved better than how this town has treated you.”
“They were just going off what they knew at the time.”
“Still, it’s no excuse, and we are going to make them realize how wrong they were.”
I stand with intent.
“Come on,” I tell him and hold my hand out for him.
He puts his hand in mine but tugs me back down to sit.
“I didn’t bring you out here to tell you this—it just sort of happened. And no one knows, including Grace, so please do not tell her.”
“Okay,” I say instantly. “You can trust me.”
“I know,” he says on a breath. “But I brought you out here because taking time for yourself is not failing, and sometimes stepping away can give you a different perspective.”
I hold my hand up. “Wait a second. You just told me something that changed your life in a huge way, but you want to focus on me and my bakery?”
He nods.
“I do, but mostly I want you to focus on you.”
“Why?”
“Because you are more than just your bakery, Brooke, and at the end of the day, you more than anyone need to know that. Give yourself grace to have a life, or someday you might not have one you want to come home to. Too many people in this world will let you down, so don’t let yourself be one of them. ”
His words pierce me right in the heart. I swallow, forcing the sting in my eyes to go away.
“Well, well, well, who would have thought Dutton Richford is a genuinely selfless man who cares?”
He bumps me with his shoulder the way I’ve done to him countless times since we sat down.
“Don’t tell anyone about that either. Now, let’s get back to the truck and go get some food. I’m hungry.”
“Me too,” I say, ignoring the little butterflies that swarm my stomach at the thought that he came to my house, took me hiking, shared something deep with me, and he still wants to keep hanging out.
We stand, brush off the dirt, and head down the trail.
“Let me walk in the back this time,” he says, slowing.
“Why?”
“It’s only fair, right? You stared at my ass the whole way up; I should get to stare at yours the whole way down.”
I jump to the side, laughing and swatting his arm.
“Dutton!”
He chuckles and fakes being hurt.
“Fine, we can walk side by side.”
“Yes, thank you,” I fall into step with him.
“Did you delete that dating app yet?” he asks, quickly changing the subject in true Dutton fashion.
“No.”
“Books, come on. You have to delete it.”
“You’re that worried?”
“It’s surprising for me, too. But yes.”
I grin.
“Well, I haven’t deleted it, but I did tell Tony that I wasn’t interested at this time.”
“And how did he reply?”
“He didn’t. I'd say he caught on fairly quickly.”
“Good. Oh, and I haven't had a chance to start that book yet, but I will soon.”
“No worries,” I say and feel a little bit of relief. Last night I’d been waiting for a text from him over the first chapter, but when it didn’t come, I decided that he’d only taken the book to mess with me. As I originally thought.
Which is fine by me.
“Oh, so she’s more casual about it today.”
Another bump to his shoulder.
“It’s really fine if you don’t read it.”
“I’m going to read it.”
“Sure.”
“I am.”
“Okay,” I reply with a smile, not believing him in the slightest.
I bite my lip and do my best to keep up all the way back to the truck. Dutton opens my door and then drives into town, where we once again have dinner at Hudson’s Bar. This time though, there are fewer stares, fewer whispers, and less fidgeting from Dutton.
The start of what seems to be a true friendship.
One I’m very much looking forward to having.