Dutton
Chapter
Eleven
“Why are you smiling like that?” Gavin asks, strutting into my office and plopping himself into one of the chairs across from my desk.
I look at him over the top of my computer screen. He’s in dress pants and a button-up shirt, one leg crossed over the other with his arms resting wide over the arms of the chair.
Someone’s relaxed.
“Like what?” I ask.
He points at me. “That’s why I’m asking. I’ve never seen you smile like this before.”
I raise a brow to his response and then turn my screen to face him.
“Who double-booked the first weekend in November?” I ask, changing the subject.
“What?” Gavin drops the foot that was set on his knee with a thud and leans forward to look at my screen. “How did that happen?”
“That’s why I’m asking you,” I point out.
“I have no clue. What’s our game plan? Who caught it?”
A grin takes over my lips at his last question.
Brooke emailed me about twenty minutes ago, asking if I was aware that she was scheduled to make two cakes for the same night but for different couples.
I can’t explain it, but her email—her run-of-the-mill, no-nonsense, two equals talking to one another like adults email—bugs me.
It has no Brooke sass, and it’s just plain boring.
I’d been crafting a reply to get her all wound up when Gavin walked in.
“Brooke did,” I finally answer my brother's question. “Both weddings booked her for the cake.”
“Oooh, Brooke, huh,” he says, a grin stretching his lips. He leans back again and pulls his phone from his pocket.
He has more to say. I know he does.
“Whatever you want to say, say it now. I’m not going to give you another chance,” I warn him.
He answers by shoving his phone screen in my face.
I grab it before he hits me.
It’s an image of Brooke and me sitting at the bar last night after our hike.
Well, mini hike, I guess.
The one where I’d told her things I’ve never told anyone.
I should be panicking.
I shared something with her that I’d been keeping in for years, and yet I feel a little lighter knowing that she knows.
This new thing between us is just that, new, but I don’t have to think twice. I can trust Brooke.
“I’d say this friendship of yours is quickly morphing into something else,” Gavin says.
My mouth opens to respond when Grace walks in.
“Gavin, why is the heater still not working?” she snaps, crossing her arms in front of her.
“It is working,” he counters. “Just a little too well.”
“And when is it going to be fixed?” Grace asks.
“Tyler got the part ordered, and it’ll be fixed by the end of the week.”
Grace lets out a groan. “He’s lucky that fall is coming. If this were dead summer, I’d be sharing words with him.”
Gavin and I both chuckle at her threat to our head of maintenance.
“What? I would,” Grace argues. “I can be stern.”
“Sure you can,” I say and then turn my computer back around.
“We double-booked the first Saturday of November, but I think we can convince one of the parties to move to the smaller room if we discount the rate and add in a suite on the lodge. I’ll call the wedding with fewer guests this afternoon.”
I add my notes to the shared planner we all use, and when I’m done, I notice neither of them have said anything.
Grace moves to the chair next to Gavin.
“Did he …”
“Willingly take on a task …”
“And not use one fucking fuck as he told us about it?”
“Oh, fuck off,” I say with a chuckle and then undo the top two buttons of my shirt.
Gavin better get this heat figured out soon.
“I bet it’s because of his new girlfriend,” Gavin adds.
Grace gasps.
“What?”
I hold up my hands to stop my sister in her tracks before she has a full-blown meltdown or whatever is brewing in her brain.
“We aren’t dating. We are just friends.”
“Sure,” Gavin says and stands, grabs his phone off my desk, and heads for the door. “And I know how to fix a broken heater without calling a specialist.”
He walks out laughing before I can reply.
Which is for the best, considering the murderous glare my sister is giving me right now. She might be younger and smaller, but she’s a little scary when she’s angry.
“I’m serious, Grace—just friends.”
“Do you want to be more?”
I pinch the spot between my eyes. “We literally just became friends.”
“But you’re attracted to her.”
“Grace,” I warn.
“Dutton,” she mocks me.
“We. Are. Just. Friends.”
Even if, and this is a big if, I entertained the idea of dating Brooke, her father would have my hide.
Could you imagine the holiday dinners with our families?
Henry, pretending to be dad and husband of the year while watching Brooke's dad stare me down from across the table, thinking of all the ways he could put cuffs on me one more time and keep me away from his daughter for good.
I rub my chin.
Has he said anything to Brooke since the rumors of our friendship started? If he has, she hasn’t said anything to me.
We should really get a plan in place as to how we want to do this with her father. I know Brooke is convinced that keeping the illusion of friends in play while being ourselves is the best route, but me, I’m not so sure. Then again, if I knew, I wouldn't have recruited her for this to begin with.
“Famous last words, huh?”
I toss my hands up.
“Okay, fine. But seriously, Dutton, Brooke is one of the best people I know, and—”
“I know, I know, don’t hurt her. Got it. I don’t plan to, and I won't.”
“Good.”
Grace leaves with a nod, and just when I think I can get on with my day, my phone goes off with a text from the guys.
Luca
Anyone up for a round of noon ball?
Ah, noon ball. A year or so ago, when Luca arranged this whole thing where the boys get together, it started with us just hanging out at his house for beers and pizza for dinner and then morphed into playing basketball before dinner. Now, we are officially at noon ball.
We’re only in our thirties, but I think this means we are well on our way to getting old.
But I could use the workout.
Dutton
I’m in.
Hudson
Rain check.
Miles
Can’t today. Sorry.
Declan
I’ve got meetings. Sorry, too.
Linc
See you there.
Luca
You all suck. Any idea for a fourth?
I run my short list of friends through my mind, and one name pops up.
Dutton
My friend Preston is in town. I'll bring him.
Luca
Is this the guy Grace hates?
Dutton
Who told you that?
Luca
No one. Definitely not my wife.
I chuckle, shooting Preston a text to see if he can join me. He confirms just as quickly. Then I set my phone face down so I can get some work done.
First things first. Call a bride to convince her to move her reception to another ballroom, then meet the boys for a game, then spend my evening with Brooke.
Throughout the next hour, it isn’t lost on me how much I wish I could cut straight to after work.
“What’s going on with Brooke?” Linc asks the moment I step onto the court. He passes me the ball, I shoot, I score, and Preston grabs the ball, since he was standing under the hoop.
“Brooke the baker who hates you?”
“Yes.” Linc nods and then adds, “Also the girl whose dad has arrested him many, many times.”
When I get the ball back in my hands, I pass it to Linc with a bit more force than needed.
“Fuck,” he says. “I think you almost broke my finger.”
“Stop talking about Brooke.”
And about the fact that her father doesn't like me. It’s already weird as is. I’ve had the urge to ask Brooke how she plans to address this switch with him more than once. But she said she had it handled, and I’m going to leave it at just that.
But if I’m being honest, I want to have words with her father. The comment Brooke made yesterday about having too much alone time as a kid, what the fuck was that about? Was her dad even aware that everyone who left him also left her?
No, I don’t know her full story, but I hope her dad isn’t a jerk like mine.
“Oooh,” Luca says, walking up. “Is she a touchy subject for you?”
“She isn’t here, so we shouldn't be talking about her.”
“Ha,” Luca coos. “I've been there. Boys, let’s have some respect for Dutton and his friend. What do you call her again?”
I glare at him as he snaps his fingers.
“That’s right, that’s right, you call her Books.”
“How the fuck do you know that?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Brooke definitely didn’t tell my wife, who definitely didn’t tell me.”
Linc stops mid-shot. “You have nicknames for each other?”
I roll my eyes and steal the ball from him because he’s fully distracted.
“Let’s just play ball and stop talking.”
“And there’s the Dutton I know,” Preston says on a laugh before guarding me and failing to stop me from shooting a three.
“Dibs on Dutton!” Luca calls out.
“You always call dibs on him,” Linc points out.
“Yeah, because I like a challenge.”
“How do you know I'm not a challenge?” Preston asks.
Luca looks around at us, then gives Preston a shrug. “No offense, but your hair is gelled and your basketball shorts have a line down the front. Those who have ironing creases in their athletic shorts probably don’t … play that often.”
Preston looks down at his outfit and then tosses his head back with a chuckle.
“So what if I have someone who does my laundry for me? That doesn't mean I can’t play ball.”
“Why don’t you two shoot for it?” I suggest, and Linc offers me knuckles. We love to get a rise out of Luca. It’s fucking easy.
“Done,” Luca says and then sinks his first basket.
Preston follows, and ten shots later I say, “Clearly you're both top players, which is surprising coming from Luca.”
“Hey!”
“I’ll take Luca, and Linc can have Preston.”
“That was how I said it from the start,” Luca says.
“I know. Let’s play.”
Thirty minutes later and the score is tied.
“Fuck,” Preston says, leaning forward and resting his hands on his thighs. “You guys really give it your all, don’t you?”
“Yep,” Luca says, pausing to stand next to him. “Seeing as we all sucked a year or so ago, this is a compliment for us.”
Preston chuckles, but I notice his smile drop instantly.
I follow his gaze to see my sister, Sadie, and Brooke walking toward the treadmills.
“She said she was busy all afternoon.” Preston is clearly frustrated, but my attention is on Brooke.
She’s wearing her standard leggings and a crop top, but it’s the book in her hand that really steals my focus.
I can't let her get ahead of me, and I can’t let her think that I’m not going to read it.
As soon as I get back to the office, I’m officially cracking that thing open.
Should I go over there and say hi? We never really established rules for random run-ins like this, but she is with my sister after all, so it makes sense.
“Dutton.”
A hand waves in front of my face.
I blink and glance over to see Gavin standing by me.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Is this the Richford kids’ workout hour?” Preston asks, and Gavin punches his shoulder and grins.
“Looks like it,” he says and then tosses me a towel. “Dad’s looking for you.”
“Of course he is.”
“He seemed pissed.”
“He always is.”
Gavin holds his hand up in surrender.
“I’m just passing the message on before you get back to the office and he comes storming in.”
“Did he mention what it’s about?”
“Nope.”
Laughter steals my attention, and once again I find myself watching my new friend.
I’m not even back at the office, but I have a feeling I know what my father wants to talk about.
Unfortunately for him, the subject of Brooke is not up for discussion. Not with him.