The Practically Romantic Groom (Cobble Creek Romance Book 2)

by Maria Hoagland

  Hardly noticing the gasps of surprise and a smattering of polite applause in the background, Brooke felt faint as nervous butterflies blocked her airway. Who was she to be onstage? Panicked, she glanced toward Cody for reassurance, but her eyes locked instead with Isaac’s. Isaac, who looked to be clapping the hardest, despite their rocky last interaction.

  This. This was why she would use her own brave muscles and beat the stage fright. This was why she put one foot in front of the other until she was onstage and Griff handed her guitar to her.

  Her heartbeat boomed like a bass drum in her ears. Brooke took a deep breath and looked out, the sunset behind the crowd temporarily blinding her. For a moment it was just her and her music. If she could just keep it that way in her mind, she could get through this.

  “Thank you,” Brooke spoke into the microphone, happy her throat wasn’t frozen in fear. “I think my appearance on stage tonight might be as much a surprise for me as it is for many of you.” She paused to allow a chuckle that rippled through the audience. “See, I lost a bet with a friend.” Her eyes locked with Isaac’s again, and the rest of the crowd disappeared. “So here I am. I have to say, though, I’m happy to have this chance to share my music. I wrote this song for that friend—” Brooke felt her face grow warm. All or nothing. “A special friend. I hope he can listen past the music and hear the words. The setting is just fluff anyway.”

  A few bars into it, the music took over, and the fear slipped away. This was it.

  Afterward, Isaac—and the whole town—would know how she felt about him. The unknown was his reaction.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Brooke had never looked so beautiful as she did in her sundress and cowboy boots. A golden glow reflecting from the sunset made up for the color she lost in her complexion when they called her name. He knew it wasn’t a surprise to her, but he had an inkling of the stage fright she was fighting all the same. When she looked over, her gorgeous baby blues wide in a panic, he hoped she could feel a little of the confidence he had in her. He’d heard her play. Years ago, he’d heard her sing—which was why he kept teasing her about singing for him. She had a beautiful voice. She could do this. If he could support her through his claps and cheers, he would pound until his hands went numb.

  The fact that Brooke was voluntarily onstage was a surprise to him, but her words, as she started speaking, were a downright shock. She’d written a song . . . for him? If that had even been a question, the way she focused on him as if he were the only person in the crowd gave him a pretty good indication.

  When the tune started—the one from the bookstore—Isaac was hooked. Country or not, the melody was catchy, musically sophisticated yet simple. Brooke’s voice, now mature and strong, folded around him like origami.

  “I bet you didn’t realize the day of our first kiss,

  Our friendship could then blossom into love that feels like this . . .”

  Wait. Did she say love? Friendship turning to love?

  These words. If she hadn’t specifically said they were written for him, he wouldn’t have dared believe it, but they couldn’t be about anyone else. He knew for a fact he was her first kiss, as she had been his.

  “Our late-night friendly card games, our archery shoot bets,

  The time we spend together being so much more than friends.

  I bet we can, I bet we do, all this time I bet on you.

  From now until forever, I hope you bet on us, too.”

  Brooke sang of bets, and Isaac couldn’t stop smiling. If she really felt that way about him, why were they even apart?

  When the song ended, Isaac stood, clapping so hard his fingertips tingled, barely holding himself back from crashing the stage to sweep her up in his arms. The crowd cheered louder than they had for any of the other groups.

  “You liked that one, did you?” the announcer teased. Griff held up Brooke’s hand as if she’d won an Olympic gold medal, though she chewed on her bottom lip like she had yet to compete. “Brooke Holt, ladies and gentlemen.”

  People all over the park popped like popcorn from sitting to joining Isaac in a standing ovation. Enjoy this, Brooke, they love you!

  He loved her.

  Griff finally let go of Brooke’s hand, and she picked her way carefully back through the crowd.

  “What do you say—should we invite Brooke back to sing for our Fourth of July celebration?” the mayor bellowed over the loudspeaker. A roar of acceptance proved the man not only was a good politician and auctioneer, but a fabulous emcee as well.

  Before Brooke made it even close to Frankie and Logan’s quilt again, Isaac stepped forward and intercepted her. He placed a hand on her cheek, taking in the beauty of her radiant face. “More than friends, huh?” She nodded, but didn’t speak, her eyes never leaving his. “Why didn’t you say something?” The whispered question came out in an almost croak.

  “I just did,” she whispered back, a sexy grin slipping into place.

  Wrapping his arms around her as tightly as he could while still dropping his lips to hers, Isaac let her know exactly how he felt about her song amid wolf whistles and more cheers.

  Everything about this kiss was the opposite of their first one—from the fact that they had an audience to evidence each was a bit more sure of the mechanics involved. What hadn’t changed were the nervous flutterings in his chest. Then, it had been because he was unsure but excited about this kiss itself; this time, he was unsure but most definitely excited about exploring a future with this perfect woman by his side.

  While it wasn’t nearly as long a kiss as Isaac would have liked, he didn’t want to overdo it in public. “To be continued,” he whispered in her hair, twirling her around in a quick circle. He stopped and set her back down, allowing himself to get lost in her eyes. “Now you see why I wanted to hear you sing. You are crazy talented.” He swallowed. “I can’t believe you wrote that for me.” How he wanted to kiss her again and possibly never stop. “I love you.” He might as well tell her all. “I always have.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The weeks following the outdoor concert were a whirlwind of happy. The Flower Girl provided the most amazing flowers, if she did say so herself, for a few more June weddings in Cobble Creek, and at the close of each event, Brooke looked on with satisfaction, pleased to play a small part in making each wedding special. The Rowe case was over, and Victoria Rowe slunk out of town with her baby and boyfriend, leaving Isaac and his client with the ability to breathe easier. And Brooke and Isaac gave up keeping track of their bets but kept playing gin rummy whenever they couldn’t find something better to do. But they found plenty to do together. Life couldn’t be better.

  Brooke was sweeping The Flower Girl and dancing with her broom when Cody walked in before lunch on the first of July.

  “Hey, sis.” He gave Brooke a one-armed hug. “I don’t mean to keep you from your dance partner—” He looked pointedly at her broom. “—But I need to place an order.” He dropped onto a stool and watched as she finished sweeping flower and ribbon debris into a pile and scooped it up.

  “You’re spoiling that woman,” Brooke accused with a smile. She’d taught him well. She liked that he hadn’t tired of ordering occasional bouquets for Danielle, and of course it didn’t hurt her bottom dollar, but he didn’t need to keep Danielle’s living room looking like a summer garden to keep her happy. She was already hooked.

  “I hope so.” Cody’s contented smile and faraway look did a sister’s heart good.

  “Good answer.” Their sibling relationship, while always decent, had never been this close before. Probably had to do with the fact that they went on double dates and held family barbecues on a regular basis. “What do you need this time?” She squinted her eyes at him in as harsh a look as she could muster. “Please don’t tell me these are apology flowers.”

  Cody laughed. “Not this time, but don’t you jinx it.” His eyes darted from a bucket of delicate pink sweet peas to fuchsia-tipped begonias, and then over th
e various shades of roses, all the while looking more and more overwhelmed. “I’m a guy, you’re a florist. I think I require your professional help deciding.”

  “So nothing new, then,” Brooke teased. “You haven’t figured out Danielle’s favorite flowers yet?” They’d chosen something different every time, so maybe Danielle enjoyed receiving a variety instead of one old standby.

  “Actually, this one is . . . special. I need you to create your dream engagement flowers—whatever the cost, style, I’m leaving that up to you.”

  Brooke barely held back a squeal and a jump in the air. She ran to Cody and hugged him tight. “It would be an honor!”

  Cody flushed, and Brooke bit the inside of her cheek to keep from giggling. She didn’t want him to think she was laughing at him. Instead, she rubbed her chin, picturing different combinations. This was going to be fun.

  Although she wanted to ask all sorts of questions—like exactly how he planned to propose and if he had a ring—she didn’t want to pressure him. “When do you want them?”

  “Can I pick them up after the parade on the Fourth?”

  Brooke allowed her face to fall. Dejectedly, she pointed at the paper notice on the door. “I’m sorry, brother, The Flower Girl is closed for the holiday.” She sucked on the inside of her cheeks to keep from laughing.

  “Oh, come on,” Cody pleaded, playing along. “It’s a special occasion.”

  “Okay, fine.”

  His adorable whine wheedled its way into softening her heart. Not that she would have denied him this for anything.

  “Text me when you want to pick them up, and I’ll meet you here.” She thought a moment. “Do you want me to text you a picture beforehand for your approval?”

  Cody waved it off. “We can’t take the chance that she’ll see it. Besides, I don’t know a daffodil from a dandelion. I trust you. If you love it, that’s all that matters.”

  Brooke crossed her arms and leaned back, appraising him. “I’m impressed. Daffodil and dandelion. I didn’t expect you to know two actual flower names.” She smirked at him. “Little secret—” She leaned in so he could hear her whisper. “We wouldn’t use dandelions in an arrangement.”

  “Maybe you should. It would be unique.” Cody pretended to swing a baseball bat at the round top of the aluminum bulb. “I also know rose, carnation, and . . .” He seemed to struggle for a third flower name.

  Brooke shook her head sadly. “I rescind my praise. I’m no longer all that impressed. Everyone knows those.”

  “Whatever. Make it good and save us seats at the parade.”

  * * *

  From the time Cody and Brooke had their clandestine meeting after the Fourth of July parade to deliver the flowers from her shop to Cody’s cooler, Brooke was distracted, scrutinizing every moment, waiting for evidence that Cody had popped the question. She looked for a bulging pocket or a knowing look shared between him and Danielle—which she could have sworn she saw a couple of times before she realized how ridiculous that was. If they got engaged, they’d tell the world—or at least their siblings. Brooke would have. She didn’t even notice a hint of nervousness in Cody, which she fully expected there to be. Thank goodness she wasn’t the one waiting around for a proposal all day. She did, however, have that big performance right before the fireworks show that she tried her best not to think about.

  Spending the Fourth of July at the lakeside park outside Cobble Creek had been a blast. Isaac couldn’t believe Brooke had never been waterskiing and insisted they go for a few hours before they closed the lake in preparation for the evening fireworks to be shot over the water. They built sandcastles with Gemma, double-teamed Cody in a water fight, and grilled hot dogs for dinner.

  Now, at nearly seven, Brooke had just enough time to start stressing over this evening’s performance. While the lake’s outdoor amphitheater was small, it would be packed for the evening’s entertainment. Several musical guests were scheduled before the grand finale of the best fireworks in the area. The Fourth at Cobble Creek Lake had long been Brooke’s favorite day of the year, and having the opportunity to perform felt iconic. And terrifying.

  “Should we go save some seats for the concert?” Danielle asked Brooke. “And let the kids play just a bit longer?”

  Isaac bestowed his sister with a sneer before checking with Brooke. “What time do you need to get backstage?”

  Brooke consulted the time on her phone. “I’ve got about half an hour before I need to change.” Tiny flutters of fear beat in her stomach, but she tried to hide the feeling with a smile.

  Isaac wrapped his arms around her, and she allowed her fingers to trail along the sides of his neck and across the top of his strong shoulders. When he placed a soft kiss on her lips, the butterflies stilled.

  “You are going to be fabulous,” he said. “Don’t stress, just enjoy the music—everyone else will.”

  “You’re a natural,” Danielle added, still standing off to the side, waiting for Brooke to join her.

  “You are going to perform ‘Bet You Can’ for me again, right?” He gave Brooke his best puppy-dog eyes.

  Brooke swatted him playfully. “I sing that to you all the time.”

  “Yes, but I kind of like it.”

  Understatement of the year, and she knew it. Which made her that much happier. She laced her fingers through his for just a moment, squeezing lightly before letting go. “I’ll see you after.”

  Isaac pulled her back for another lingering kiss. “Break a leg.” He seemed to reconsider. “No, that’s not right. That’s what you say to a thespian. How do you wish a musician good luck?”

  “Crack a lip,” Cody called, and Brooke chuckled. She hadn’t even realized he was keeping tabs on them. He was a good ten feet away, keeping an eye on Gemma on the swing.

  “I don’t think I like that idea,” Isaac whispered in Brooke’s ear, and she tingled at his implication.

  “I don’t think anyone likes the idea of an actor breaking a leg either,” she whispered back.

  “You have a point there.” He leaned back and returned the squeeze between their hands. “Crack a lip and remember I love you.”

  “I never want to forget.” Brooke smiled and left Isaac to keep Gemma and Cody company. He was an important part of the equation still, as Gemma wasn’t talking to Cody. Yet.

  “Gemma seems to be warming up to Cody,” Brooke observed as she and Danielle made their way to the rock amphitheater. While Brooke hadn’t exactly seen Gemma talk to Cody, she didn’t shy away from him either. “Do you think she’ll ever talk to him?”

  Danielle shifted the quilt in her hands as they walked up the stone steps. “I sure hope so, but I don’t know.”

  “I didn’t mean to make you worry,” Brooke apologized. “Cody is totally fine taking it one day at a time with her. We both really adore that girl.”

  “And you both are so great with her, so patient. Not expecting her to talk, not asking her questions, not even forcing her to interact. The changes are so subtle, but I’m pleased you noticed. Her doctor thinks Gemma will improve more if we start her on medication, but we’re easing into it.”

  Brooke recognized the uncomfortable look on Danielle’s face. “Are you worried people will judge you for putting her on medicine?” The thought was appalling. “I won’t, and neither will Cody.”

  Danielle sighed. “Oh, someone will. Lots of someones will. I’m so sick of people logging their opinion when they don’t know the situation. I’m tired of them telling me they could do it better, if only . . .” She shook her head. “But today is a day of celebration.”

  “Everyone or Evan?”

  Danielle considered this a moment. “You’re right. Evan will oppose it for sure, which is part of the reason we’re taking it slow, but most people are pretty great. It just gets tiring having to explain why she won’t say thank you in the store, why she won’t say ‘trick or treat’ at Halloween, why she won’t say hi to a classmate.”

  Brooke recalled one o
f Cody’s friends greeting Gemma at the beach that afternoon and Danielle filling the following silence with a simple “I guess she’s feeling quiet today.”

  “What do you think of here?” Brooke stopped at a spot a third of the way up from the stage. “It’s kind of close, but with the theater filling up fast, and since there’s enough room for everyone . . .”

  “It’s perfect. Isaac would kill me if he was too far away. He already warned me.” Danielle held out the end of the quilt to Brooke, and the two of them folded it lengthwise to add a bit of much-needed padding to the wide benches of thick quarried stone and then sat down to claim the spot. “Honestly, sometimes I even forget that Gemma struggles with selective mutism. When I see her at home, she has so much to say that the words tumble out like a freshwater spring, all light and happy. I forget that she’s a completely different person for everyone else. But even after days like today, when I’ve made excuses for her, all I see in front of me is my daughter with her own set of challenges and triumphs. We all have them. Do I hope it gets easier for her? Of course. But we’re coping, and she’s doing better every day.”

  Brooke gave Danielle a half-hug. “You are a wonderful mom. Gemma is a fantastic girl. And Cody is lucky to have you both.” It took every ounce of restraint for Brooke not to hint of good things to come. She just hoped she’d be around when Cody popped the question. Maybe during the fireworks. That would be romantic. “I hate to leave you, but I’ve got to get backstage.” Brooke ran a hand through her hair. “It’s a good thing there’s a place I can clean up some. I don’t think everyone wants to see me with stringy lake hair and wearing tattered cutoffs. Oh, and thanks for distracting me.”

  Danielle gave her a quick hug. “Knock their socks off.”

  Brooke looked at the assortment of flip-flops and sandals on the individuals around them. “I’ll probably be the only one wearing socks.” Despite the summer temperatures, her lucky cowboy boots were a must. “See you soon!”