Brooke #3
“Brooke is not a distraction,” Dutton says, and I swear when he speaks, it’s like a magnet. I’m suddenly watching him again.
“Now, I sense that you need something since you came all the way to my office. If you could tell me what it is instead of scolding me, I could help you reach your needs faster.”
As if this moment isn’t awkward enough, the room somehow fills with even more testosterone, waiting to see who is going to cave first.
Please be Mr. Richford.
“Grace has been sharing small details with me on her ten-year plan, and I came to see if you had made any progress on yours.”
Dutton nods.
“Of course, but it’s not ready yet.”
“It doesn't need to be ready yet. Just tell me one thing you have on it.”
“It’s really not—”
“One thing. Now, Dutton.”
“Expansion,” Dutton says with a growl. “I think we could be in three to five states within the next ten years under my leadership.”
Wow. And here I thought I had goals.
Mr. Richford grunts, his beady eyes drifting back to me.
I give him a pathetic straight-lipped smile.
Clearly, he doesn't approve of me. Which is odd, seeing as how I'd say the majority of this town loves me, and he and I have never actually spoken. Heck, I've been friends with Grace for years and still haven’t spoken to this man. He’s always busy.
“Let’s hope this plan includes sacrificing your personal life, because if it doesn’t, it’ll fall apart before you even begin,” he says and walks out the door.
I wait a good thirty seconds before I let out a low whistle. At least Dutton stops glaring at the doorway.
“What does that even mean?” I ask.
“What does what mean?”
Dutton sits back down, his head hanging in front of him as his fingers rub his temples.
“Let’s hope this plan includes sacrificing your personal life because if it doesn’t, it’ll fall apart before you even begin,” I say in a deep voice, my best representation of his father.
Dutton chuckles. “He did sound a little weaselly, didn’t he?”
I grin.
“Like a medium to large amount, I think.”
Dutton's bright green eyes glance up at me, and his smile takes away any tension that might have been lingering.
He looks at his computer quickly then at the papers on his desk.
“Do you want to get out of here?” he asks, standing quickly, grabbing his book just as fast.
“And go where?” I ask. He stuffs a laptop into a bag and then a notebook, zipping it with force. He’s gathering things as if he isn’t planning to come back.
“I don’t know yet.”
He removes his button-down and pulls on a shirt that had been lying over the back of his chair, then he puts the button-down back on. His gaze finds mine once more, waiting for me to say something.
“Okay, do you want to hike up to your spot or go somewhere alone?”
“No. I want to go somewhere with you,” he says and those emerald eyes pull me into a trance. “Does that work for you?”
A warm feeling floods through my veins.
Does Dutton need me right now? Like need need. In a comforting way.
No one has ever needed me like that, and I … I …
“Yes,” I say in a rush before that’s exactly how this moment feels. “That works for me.”
“Good.”
He grabs my hand with his free one and pulls me behind him out of the office and down the hall. To leave the lodge, we’d need to keep going straight, but Dutton guides us to the left, down another hall. He pushes through a door, and we appear in the back room of the lodge's bar.
“What are we doing?” I ask.
“Alcohol. We need alcohol.”
He grabs two bottles of wine and a bag to put them in, then adds two more. Then he grabs my hand again.
He turns toward the door, clearly planning to leave without a word to anyone.
Shit!
“Dutton,” I say and he jerks his hands back.
He spins to face me.
“We can’t just steal these,” I whisper snap.
“It's not stealing when my family owns this place,” he says with a grin.
“Oh,” is my only reply.
For a moment there, I thought I was going to be an accomplice to something illegal. It was slightly exciting.
I nod, ready to continue on with whatever adventure Dutton is about to introduce us to, but he doesn't move.
“Books?” My nickname is definitely his way of flirting.
“What?”
“Are you bummed that we aren't stealing these?”
“No.”
He chuckles and then hands me the bag of wine bottles. Miraculously, someone else walks into the room at that exact moment and spots us.
“Hey, Dutton, how's it going?”
“It’s about to be great, Dan. How's it going for you?”
“Can’t complain. Do you want me to add those to your tab?”
Dutton looks at me and winks.
“Nope, Books here was planning to steal them.”
My gasp can be heard states away.
Okay, maybe not, but it’s loud.
“Dutton!” I scold, and he barks out a laugh.
“See, just being around you makes everything about my day better.”
He backs up, pulling me by the bag.
“Yes, Dan, add these to my tab. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Have a good evening, you two.”
“Oh, we will,” Dutton answers, and even though I know I'm ten shades of red in the face right now, his playful side is new for me, and I won’t lie, I like it.
I like him.
Maybe a little too much.
And now I’m about to spend my afternoon and evening with him.
Alone.
With wine.
Four bottles.
Did I mention alone?