Chapter 9
Brooks adjusted his cufflinks again, ensuring they were perfectly placed. He stepped back checked his reflection in his bedroom mirror before sliding on his watch. He hadn’t been this nervous about a date since... hell, possibly ever.
All he could think about was Taylor. How she’d been slowly letting him see beneath her perfect facade. She’d started texting him good morning or checking on his day before he could. Simply put, Taylor made him want things he’d given up on years ago.
This wasn’t just dinner, not for him at least. This was him laying his cards on the table, letting her see exactly what she did to him. And what he would give her if she allowed him to. All that terrified him in the best way possible, but he wasn’t running from it.
“Remember,” he said into his phone, “I want the whole system up before we get back. Cameras, motion sensors, everything.”
“We got you,” Rex replied.
His knuckles had barely grazed the door when it swung open, and everything in him stilled. Taylor stood there in the dress he’d chosen, the silver looking better on her than he imagined when picking it out.
Her brown skin glowed in the evening light. She’d cut her hair it was in a soft bob framing her face like art. It was perfect. Those glossed lips curved into a smile that had him forgetting every smooth line he’d practiced. All his words and sense just evaporated.
“Say something,” she said sweetly, fidgeting with her small purse, suddenly shy under his intense gaze.
“Damn.”
He hadn’t meant to say it out loud. But there it was. Like an exhale, she’d knocked the wind out of him. His eyes swept over her slowly, taking in every inch of her.
There was something different in her eyes. Something calmer. Warmer.
For a second, he thought about canceling the night entirely.
Staying in.
Laying her out like a gift and unwrapping every inch of her. But she wasn’t ready for that.
“You look beautiful,” he said, voice fading. “And this…”
He reached out, fingers grazing the ends of her freshly cut hair.
“I like that shit. It’s sexy as hell.”
She leaned into his touch, her face turning slightly until her cheek rested against his palm. The simple gesture made his heart jump. Every time she looked up at him through those lashes, his body responded, his mind got loud.
She stepped back, smoothing her hand over her hip. “You’ve got good taste,” she said. “Though you already knew that when you dropped it off.”
He smiled, chest rising with that slow pride he didn’t bother hiding around her.
“But full disclosure,” she added, glancing up at him, “I was gonna look good regardless. It’s my birthday. The big three four.”
He blinked. “Your what?”
“My birthday,” she said it too casually, like it hadn’t hurt her to admit.
“I wasn’t gonna say anything. Didn’t want it to turn into a thing.”
Brooks tilted his head, stepping in just a little closer. “Too late. It’s officially a thing now.”
He wanted to ask why she didn’t say anything. Why she hadn’t told him it was her birthday. He could’ve pressed her about the new haircut, the way her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.
But he didn’t need to.
He watched her closely instead—saw it in her shoulders, the way she moved with more confidence, she was arriving, more intentional.
And even without a word, he knew today had meant more than she let on.
He didn’t need the details. Just knew he was supposed to honor the moment and share it with her.
Brooks stood there for a beat too long, fighting the knot forming in his chest. That shit hit him harder than it should’ve.
Not because it was her birthday, but because she didn’t feel like it mattered enough to say it.
He didn’t want to become just another man she couldn’t trust with the softest parts of herself.
“I mean... you did plan the whole night,” she said with a small shrug. “So I guess you were kind of on to something.”
He leaned in, brushing his lips against her cheek.
“Tay... I would’ve moved mountains if I’d known. But it’s alright. I’ll make it up to you.”
“Thank you, but you’ve already done enough.” she whispered. “And you look good, Brooks.”
His eyes stayed locked on her. Her haircut was robbing him of his focus.
“Tay, I love this hair. Forgive me.”
“No, I’m glad you like it. I was nervous about cutting it. But it was time,” she said inadvertently touching it herself.
She’d woken up on something new. She’d spent her morning cutting ties with everything that no longer served her, cleaning her home from top to bottom, replacing old energy with new, buying herself things she didn’t need but deserved.
Hell, she even called Blake for a last-minute chop, needing her outside to match what was shifting inside.
And he was making sure she knew her day hadn’t been in vain.
She wasn’t playing anymore, and he could feel it.
“You ready?”
“Where are we going?” She asked, curious but smiling.
“You’ll see.”
He placed a hand at the small of her back gentle and guided her toward the car .
He glanced over at her, noting how she kept fidgeting with her dress, lost in thought. “You been quiet. How did the other day go with your people?”
“I didn’t tell them yet. I sort of wanna just pop up single one day. Like Tada magic,” she half joked.
“You don’t owe nobody no explanations,” he said, his hand finding her knee and squeezing gently. “When you ready to tell them, you tell them. Until then?” He shrugged. “Let them keep thinking what they want.”
“Easy for you to say. You don’t have,” she stopped, the words dying in her throat, feeling insensitive.
“Nah, you’re right I don’t have parents.”
“Brooks, I’m sorry I didn’t mean it that way.”
“I ain’t tripping because you right, but I know what it’s like having people expect you to be something you ain’t.”
He wasn’t offended by her words. She was right. His thumb traced circles on her knee as he drove. She felt like his passenger seat was where she belonged.
“Sometimes you gotta choose your own peace over other people’s comfort. I’m learning that day by day.”
Taylor loved the way he could take her worst moments and turn them into understanding.
Before she could find the words to express that, they turned onto Highland Avenue, the city lights sprawling before them.
“Kettle21?” Taylor’s eyes widened as they pulled up to the exclusive restaurant perched at the city’s highest point. The rave was its rotating dining room offering panoramic views. “Brooks, this is too much.”
“No it’s not. You don’t get to determine that for me.
Don’t worry about that shit tonight,” he said, coming around to open her door.
The sight of her stepping out had his dick struggling against the fabric of his slacks.
Her leg extended between the slit missing from her dress like a piece of pie.
His eyes closed. The confident sway in her walk told him she knew exactly how good she looked.
Pride swelled in his chest knowing he’d contributed to that glow in some small way.
“I know I said it before, but you look incredible tonight.” His voice dropped lower, meant just for her. Her lips curved into a smile, and she dipped her head to hide it.
“I don’t mind hearing it again.”
Brooks laced his fingers through hers, savoring how perfectly her hand fit in his, and led her inside. The ma?tre d’ guided them to a private corner booth with panoramic views of the city lights below. Taylor slid in, and he caught the way her eyes widened as she took in the view.
“You wanna drink? Or are you cool on that?” Brooks asked carefully, his voice carrying a gentle respect that made Taylor look up from the menu. She knew what he was doing—trying to be mindful of her church background. She wasn’t too holy to enjoy a drink.
“Brooks Bishop, don’t do that. I can have a good time.” She was a little offended that he thought she was a stick in the mud.
A slow grin spread across his face, equal parts relief and appreciation. “My bad. I just didn’t want to assume. Your faith, your relationship with God, I respect it. Never want to come between that or make you feel like you gotta compromise to be around me. ”
The sincerity in his voice touched her. After Tyree, who’d spent the last year trying to make her feel small for her beliefs, who’d roll his eyes now when she mentioned church, this was refreshing.
“Thank you for that,” she said gently, meaning it. “You don’t know how much that means. Do you go to church?” She asked.
“Nah, not my thing.”
“And why not Brooks? You don’t believe?”
“It’s not that. I ain’t been since I laid my momma to rest. Two funerals in two years was a lot for me and I don’t know…” his voice drifted off.
Taylor grabbed his hand. Brooks exhaled. “I don’t know if I stopped believing. I just don’t know where I stand with Him anymore. You lose people like that, back to back, and it makes you question a lot.”
Taylor nodded, squeezing his hand gently.
She didn’t know grief or pain of losing a parent, but she knew grief.
She was migrating through her own level of grief.
She also understood the questioning God and his plan.
Because some days she was too. She’d gone back and forth on if God was mad at her about her divorce, she was struggling too and she knew him intimately. She could only imagine how Brooks felt.
“You don’t have to have it all figured out,” she said, her voice soft but certain. “God’s big enough to handle your questions, your anger, all of it. He’s not looking for perfect people, Brooks. Just honest ones.”
He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “You starting to sound real parental right now. She used to say ‘you ain’t gotta go looking for God, Brooksie, He already there.’ ”