Dutton
Chapter
Thirteen
“We should have planned better,” I say, leaning down to whisper into Brooke’s ear as we walk toward the front of the bakery eyeing Main Street, where the beginning of the fall kickoff festival is in full swing.
I’d opted to meet Brooke here, sneaking in through the back door to avoid the stares, since she is working later than normal to prepare for this afternoon.
One thing about small towns, Lovers especially, is their joy for festivals. They love them. I’m convinced that if they could put one on every single weekend, they would.
Normally, I do my best to skip these things, but Brooke says it would be good for my image and my goal to take over the lodge if I start showing up and actually interacting with people.
People are well aware of our friendship at this point, so now it’s time to give them a show and let them know who I am.
She’s not wrong, but I’ll tell you one thing: this woman better not leave my side today. The festivals I have been to lately with Linc, Hudson, Luca, or even Gavin haven’t had anything close to the kind of outcome Books believes we can have today.
Brooke glides up to my side, smelling like sugar and vanilla as she unties her apron and sets it on the nearest table.
She moved most of the tables to the sidewalk earlier, since today we have been given a warmer fall day.
Did I ask her to wait for me so that I could move them for her?
Yes, I did. But after hanging out with Brooke every evening for the last two weeks, I’ve learned that she lives a life that depends on no one but herself.
While it’s given me more insight into who she is as a person, it’s also brought up a lot more questions in my mind.
Like the fact that her dad is the sheriff, but he doesn't seem to be as involved in her life as one would think. The one who thinks is me. And I think this because, according to Brooke, he hasn’t asked her about me once since our friendship was announced.
“Everything is going to be just fine.” She grabs a tray of cookies and thrusts it into my ribs. I grunt. “Take this and mingle.”
My eyes go wide as I gape at her. “Mingle? You do know who you’re talking to, right?”
“Yes, I do. Now, if you could just show these people the same man I see every single night, they are going to love you.”
I grin, my gaze meeting her eyes.
“Why, Brooke Sloan, did you fall in love with me and not tell me?”
“Oh my gawd, you are terrible. You know what I mean. Show them the hidden cinnamon roll that you are.” She shoves me in front of her. “Go.”
I plant my feet. “I have no fucking clue what that means, but no, not unless you’re coming with me.”
“Are you being serious?"
“Dead.” I stare her down.
Her hands go up with a huff. “Fine, wait here for two minutes while I change.”
“You got it, boss.”
She rolls her eyes with a smile, sets her cell phone down on the table, and then disappears through the swinging door to the kitchen.
My focus falls to the big window in the front and all the people loitering around the store. When I glance back, Daisy is playing on her phone behind the register. Since people can still come in to buy things, it makes sense that she’s still working.
The bell over the door rings, and Gavin walks in with his daughter (and my niece), Layla, and Preston.
“Uncle D, what’s going on with you and Brooke?” Layla asks, and Gavin smirks, crossing his arms in front of him as he waits for my reply.
“Can I?” Preston asks and points to the cookies.
I nod, and he grabs one for himself and then hands the other to Layla.
“I didn’t know you were back in town,” I say.
The last time he was here, the week went so fast that I didn’t have time to get together outside of noon ball. That was more than a week ago now. Sure, had I skipped out on a night with Brooke, I might have seen him more, but I didn’t want to do that.
“Yeah, I just can’t seem to stay away.” He chuckles awkwardly, and then leaves in a rush.
We all watch him go, and then we see our sister dart in the opposite direction.
“Sooo,” Gavin starts. “Are you going to answer your niece's question?”
I pin my brother with a look that leaves no doubt he’s annoying me.
“I’m here to help Brooke with the bakery.”
“Is Brooke your girlfriend?” Layla asks.
Layla is a fresh teenager, and she’s nosy as hell, as any thirteen-year-old would be, but considering I’m going to be the same way if she ever brings a boy home, I let it slide.
“Brooke is just my friend.”
“I don’t know, Uncle D. You two sure have been hanging out a lot lately.”
“Yes, and he’s like gum on the bottom of my shoe that won’t come off,” Brooke says, appearing from the back and capturing 100 percent of my attention.
She’s changed from her typical leggings and crop top to a pink jean skirt that hits the middle of her thigh and a white top with frilly edges on the bottom and sleeves.
Her hair is still in a messy bun on her head, with pieces falling out to frame her face, but she clearly added some makeup.
Her eyes are brighter and her lips are a shiny, glossy pink I can't seem to pull my gaze from.
Gavin bumps me.
I’m just about to tell him quietly to fuck off, when Brooke’s phone vibrates loudly against the table, drawing all of our attention.
She has her settings to show incoming messages on her lock screen, and the one I see makes my blood boil.
“Is that Tony from your dating app?” I ask harshly, snapping her phone off the table, as if holding it closer will change the words I just read on her screen.
Her eyes flash between me and the screen, and it seems this notification is just as shocking to her as it is to me.
“I …” She slowly takes her phone, looking at it as if she’s confused. “I deleted the app.”
On instinct, I grab the phone from her. As though keeping her from it will protect her somehow. “So, he decided to find you on Instagram?”
“What the fuck?” Gavin says and peers at the phone again. “Who?”
“What’s your passcode?” I ask, glancing at her.
Her eyes are glossy. I let my rage simmer just enough to redirect my response.
I set the phone down and take her hand in mine. With the other hand, I guide her chin so that she looks up at me.
“Hey, it’s going to be okay. Is this the first time he’s messaged you on here?” I ask, somehow keeping my tone light enough to help ease the worry that’s clear in her eyes.
She nods.
“All right.” I glance at my brother. My gut tells me this isn’t good, but my head tells me that whatever happens from here isn’t my choice.
“What do you want to do about it, Books?”
She takes a deep breath.
“I’ve had guys struggle to take no for an answer online before. He’ll get bored and move on, so let’s do the same.”
“What guys don’t accept no?” Gavin chimes in. He stole my next question.
“Anyone from here in town?” I add. “Tell me who.”
“No one from here. I don’t date locals.”
She grabs her phone and puts it in the small crossbody purse I didn’t know she was wearing and then stands up a little straighter.
“Let’s just focus on the festival right now.”
Her sapphire gaze sweeps to mine, and even though my thoughts are screaming not to let this go, I do because it’s what she wants.
Fuck.
I’m going to look into this guy more later.
I share a look with Gavin, and I know we are on the same page.
The hand that had been holding Brooke drops and moves to her lower back, where I rub small circles in hopes that it can signal to her that I’m here for her.
But again, I catch my brother staring at me.
He mouths just a friend and shakes his head as he and Layla leave the bakery.
“Is everything okay?” Brooke asks.
“Everything is fine,” I say and let myself steal one more look at her.
At those lips.
Fuck.
They’re a great distraction from what just happened.
“I should be asking you if you’re okay.”
I sit on the closest table, pulling her to stand in front of me.
“Are you?”
She nods slowly.
“Yes.”
I watch her for just a moment. The feeling that she doesn’t want me to see any form of weakness hits me again.
I have to take her word for it.
“All right, let’s do this,” I say.
“Okay.” She smiles and steps back so that I can stand.
“And, Books?”
“Yeah?” She looks over her shoulder.
“Thanks for deleting the app.”
Her smile is genuine as she shrugs.
“I should have listened to you from the start.”
She doesn’t leave me any room to reply before she’s out the door.
I follow behind her only to come to an abrupt stop, because everyone—and I mean everyone— is staring at us.
“What happened now?” I ask, leaning down to whisper the question in Brooke’s ear. One would think that the idea of her and I as friends would be old news by now.
“I don’t know, but I have a feeling that people are stunned we are still hanging out.”
“Well, joke’s on them, because you’re stuck with me now,” I tell her. “You real-friended me a little too hard.”
Brooke's laugh is light and music to my ears.
“I’m okay with being stuck with you.”
“Good. Now, let’s start walking so that people can stop looking at us.”
“You got it.”
The next hour goes by in a blur. Everyone wants to talk to Brooke, and because of that, they talk to me.
My conversations are much shorter, and as it turns out, I’m not a very good small-town local.
Honestly, Brooke sort of set that bar a little too high for the rest of us.
She knows who just had a birthday, who is about to have one, whose kids play sports and whose kids are in what grade.
She knows dating gossip, and she even knows that Mrs. Hanson stopped eating chocolate three months ago because her grandson hates it.
Like … who takes time out of their day to know all these things about another person? Brooke. That's who.
A part of me was tempted to ask these locals to tell me a small fact about Brooke, but once they were done talking with her about themselves, they left.
Which tells me one thing: Brooke is just as selfless as I thought, and while it’s a great quality to have, she should learn that she is just as important as all these other people.