“I’m not taking no for an answer, Hearts.”
***
Oh, how he loved the way she was looking at him right now. If he had his phone with him, he would take it out and snap a picture just to remember this moment. If she could be a pushy pain in the ass who insisted on always getting her way, then he could be, too.
She had done so much for him, and though dinner was a lame show of gratitude, it was all he could think of. Maybe by tomorrow he would come up with a better plan.
“Don’t call me that,” she growled which only made him laugh, and before she could argue with him, he jogged down the driveway and out onto the main road.
He fell into a steady pace and tried to clear his head, but Brooke’s face wouldn’t seem to leave his mind. The vision of her was as stubborn as the woman herself, infiltrating his thoughts and making it impossible for him to focus on anything else.
He’d gotten to know the many sides of Brooke Marshall. The way she had stepped up for him and helped him was the side of her he hadn’t seen in years. Most times she looked at him with disdain and was quick to throw an insult in his face. The nice Brooke, who he’d once had a crush on, was working her way back into his heart, and he had a feeling she didn’t even know it.
He continued down the road, sweat pouring down his face and when he finally got to his place, he was ready to jump in the shower, except his brother was sitting on his front step, blocking his path.
Troy was dressed in his usual dress shirt and tie. He looked like an accountant and not someone who built shit for a living. Though, Troy had always been better at giving orders than actually carrying them out. He was the dictator, and Tyler was best with his hands.
“What do you want?” he asked, walking the rest of the way up the driveway. He didn’t want to hate his brother, but he was the prodigal son-—the one Dad praised to everyone who would listen. Troy followed in Dad’s footsteps, and because of that, he would always be Dad’s favorite and Tyler would always be the disappointment. It was hard for Tyler not to resent Troy.
“Thought we could talk.”
“Dad send you?” It wouldn’t be the first time Dad used Troy to try and sweet talk Tyler into something he didn’t want to do.
“No,” Troy said. “He’s pissed.”
“Good.”
“He told me he cut you off.”
Tyler sat down on the stoop next to him and shrugged. “Not the first time.”
“It’s the first time he didn’t put an age on it. Usually he bumps it a year or two.”
“It is what it is. What am I supposed to do, Troy? Go back and beg for a job? That’s never going to happen. I don’t want to work for him or you, no offense. I just want to be left alone so I can do my own thing, and if you can’t respect that then I don’t know what the hell to tell you.”
“I’m impressed,” Troy said, and Tyler’s head almost flew off his shoulders in shock.
“Impressed?”
“You’ve always been a bit of a spoiled brat.”
“Thanks, but if you’re done insulting me, I really need to hit the shower.”
“If you’d let me finish.” He turned to him, the same green eyes as their mother pinning him in place. “You’ve always been spoiled, but you’ve also been fiercely independent. Remember that summer you wanted to camp in the backyard?”
“I didn’t want anyone to stay in the tent with me,” he said.
“And you stayed out there from evening and until late morning, doing God knows what.”
He laughed. “Mainly reading comic books.”
“Or that time when you were four years old, and Mom took us to the pool. You didn’t have your swimmies on yet, and you ran to the pool and jumped right in.”
“Scared the crap out of Mom.”
“Thank God the lifeguard was paying attention.” He laughed. “But that’s just you. It’s always been you. You dive into things head on without thinking about the consequences, and I admire that.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, I do. I overanalyze everything. The first time Mom brought me to the pool, I had my swimmies on, and it still took me thirty minutes to finally get in.”
“Nothing wrong with being cautious.”
“No, there isn’t, which is why I’m here. I want to make sure you’ve thought this through. Dad is serious this time, and I don’t want to see you put yourself in a position you’re going to regret.”
Tyler thought about it for only a couple seconds. His mind had already been made up that day in his parents’ kitchen, and he wasn’t about to back down now out of fear of the unknown. “I’m sure.”
“That’s all I wanted to know.” Troy pushed on his knees and stood up. He swatted at his ass to clean off any dirt. Troy held his hand out to him, and though they hadn’t fought or said too much to each other in the last few years, it felt like he was extending an olive branch. Tyler accepted, shaking his hand.
“Thanks for stopping by,” Tyler said and meant it. It was nice to know his brother actually cared and didn’t always follow their father’s agenda.
“Stop by the house sometime. Stephanie would be happy to see you, and the kids would love to see their uncle.”
“I will,” he said, and he was surprised to see that he wasn’t just saying it. He meant it.
Troy got to his white Mercedes SUV and stopped, turning to Tyler. “I’m rooting for you,” he said and as stupid as it was, it filled Tyler with happiness.
“Thanks, brother. That means a lot.”
Troy pulled out of the driveway, and Tyler headed into the house, grateful for the day’s unexpected events. Now more than ever, he needed to make this rental business work. He had too many people who believed in him, and the last thing he wanted was to let them down.
Chapter 9
Brooke had no idea what the hell to wear. Was it a date? Was it just a platonic thank you dinner? Tyler didn’t give her any context. He didn’t tell her where they were going, so how was she supposed to know how to dress? Did she put heels on? A dress? Jeans? Sneakers?
She whipped one hanger after the other out of her way, digging through her closest, trying to find something that would check as many of the boxes off and make her look like she was prepared. Maybe she should text him… but every time she picked up the phone, she felt incredibly nervous, which was stupid. It was Tyler for heaven’s sake.
She picked her phone up just as she received a text from Bex. She tapped the text and cringed at the dress Bex was wearing. Seriously what was going on with her stylist? The outfits she’d been putting her in were beyond hideous—they were pathetic.
I don’t think I like this color.
The color was the least of her worries. The hemline was all wrong, hitting her at an awkward spot on her calf and stilting her height instead of elongating her frame. The neck cut awkwardly across her chest, making her look frumpy.
If the color is the only thing you don’t like, then you need to get your eyes checked.
She sent the text and returned to her own fashion emergency. Her phone beeped a few seconds later, and she gave up on her own quest for the perfect outfit and plopped on her bed.
What about this one?
Brooke waited for the picture to load and smiled when she realized it wasn’t a complete wash. This was something they could work with. The blue dress was pretty, and the deep blue reminded her of Tyler’s eyes, bright and attractive.
The waist was a little loose, but that was an easy fix.
Metal strand Chanel belt with the charms and you’ll be good to go.
You’re the best!
I know.
Brooke put her phone down and stared at her closet before getting over herself and calling Tyler. He answered on the third ring. “Hey, Hearts.”
“Must you call me that?”
“What else should I call you?”
“What about Brooke?”
“Yeah, that’s not going to work. What’s up?”
�
��Where are we going tonight? I’m trying to figure out what to wear, and I’m spending entirely too much time thinking about it.”
“Aww, are you trying to look nice for me?”
She rolled her eyes. “In your dreams. I’m trying to figure out what’s going to be appropriate. I don’t want to overdress or underdress.”
“I haven’t quite figured it out yet.”
She pulled her phone away from her ear and looked at the time. “You’re supposed to be here in an hour, and you still don’t know where we’re going?”
“We don’t have many options around here unless you want to go to dinner where you work or to visit Terry at the Happy Apple, but after our last visit there, I’m thinking it’s best we don’t put any more ideas in her head.”
“I have to agree.”
“Can I get that in writing?”
She held back a laugh. “Never.”
“I was thinking about going to the resort. They have a great restaurant there.”
Brooke looked at her closest and though she had plenty of great pieces, she didn’t think any of them would be appropriate. The Fairview Resort was a town over but it might as well have been on another planet. It was a resort that catered to the rich who wanted to hit the ski slopes or pamper themselves without having to leave the east coast.
One meal would cost more than Brooke spent on food in a week. Did Tyler forget that his father cut him off? Or maybe he was used to the luxuries of that lifestyle and he wasn’t able to see the bigger picture. Either way, Brooke wasn’t going to let him waste his money on a meal when he could spend it on more important things, like paint and throw pillows.
“You know what?” Brooke said. “I have an idea.”
“I thought I was the one making plans.”
“Clearly I need to take charge here.”
He laughed. “Fine, what do you have in mind?”
“You’re going to have to wait and see,” she said. “See you in a couple hours.”
She hung up the phone and went right to her closest because she knew exactly what to wear now.
***
Tyler had no idea how it went from him inviting Brooke out to him being completely in the dark about what they were going to do. Now he was questioning what he was wearing, which he usually never gave a second thought about.
He looked down at the light blue button-up shirt that was neatly tucked into a pair of tan slacks and knocked.
“It’s open!” he heard echo through the house, and he slowly eased the door open, stepping into a mouth-watering scent of spices and peppers.
“Hello?”
“In here!” Brooke’s voice floated out of the kitchen.
He followed her voice and the scent. Brooke stood at the stove in a pair of shorts, revealing her toned legs and just shy of flashing a little ass cheek. Her feet were bare and her black tank top clung to her like a second skin. Her hair was piled on top of her head, showcasing the long column of her neck.
Her hips swayed to the faint pop music she had playing on her phone. Mesmerized, his gaze followed the movement.
She spun around, wooden spoon in hand. “Hey,” she said. She had minimal makeup on, making the dusting of freckles across her nose front and center. He never understood why she covered them up. Maybe because they made her appear innocent, and God forbid anybody saw her as anything other than the vindictive façade she hid behind.
She had him fooled for years. He thought she despised him, that the very thought of him made her physically ill. It’s how she always acted toward him until she selflessly volunteered to help him. It was then he saw a crack in her façade and with every second he spent with her, he was starting to see the Brooke he had once fallen head over heels for.
He eyed her curiously and nodded to the stove. “What’s going on? I thought we were going out.”
“Why go out when we can stay in?”
“I’m supposed to take you out as a thank you.”
“There’s no way I’d let you take me to Fairview.”
“Why not?” If she thought she didn’t belong there, then she was surely mistaken. Brooke deserved all the luxuries life had to offer, and if he could give her a little taste of it, he damn well was going to. It was the least he could do after all she’d done for him.
“Because it’s ridiculously overpriced, and if you’ve forgotten, you walked away from your trust fund. You need to start being a little more frugal.” She moved toward him and poked her finger into his chest. “Think of this as a crash course in how to be poor.” She turned away from him and put her attention on the pan.
“What are you making?” he asked since there was no use in arguing. She had already started to cook, and he guessed she had a point. Not that he thought she was poor or that he ever would be. His business would take off before his bank account was depleted. He was positive of that.
“Philly cheesesteak sloppy Joes.”
“Can’t say I’ve had them.”
“Why does that not surprise me? Have you had a regular sloppy Joe?”
“Once. At Nick’s house when we were like twelve. I remember loving them.”
“You’re not completely hopeless then. These, in my opinion at least, are better.” She glanced at him over her shoulder, a half-hearted smile tugging at her mouth. “My mom used to make them for a quick meal. She’d let me pick green peppers from her garden.” She pressed her lips together, her gray eyes sad with memories of her past. “That was a long time ago. Layla continued the tradition, but she would get her peppers from someone she worked with.”
“She didn’t keep up your mom’s garden?”
“Between work, driving me around, dealing with Chase’s behavioral issues, she didn’t really have the time.”
“What about you?” he asked, and her hand stilled before she started mixing the meat again with a little more gusto.
“I tried. Everything died.” She put the wooden spoon down and rested her hands on the counter. She was silent for a moment before she turned, catching his gaze. “I thought if I could grow the peppers and tomatoes and basil like she did, it would be like a part of her was in the garden with me. The deer ate the tomatoes, the peppers never grew, and the basil died when I forgot to water it. As stupid as it sounds, it was like losing her all over again. I gave up gardening after that.”
The weight of her words hit him hard. Her mother died when they were twelve. It had been that many years since Brooke gave up gardening… “If you gave it up then what made you want to help me plant all those flowers?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
He wrapped his hand around her wrist, and her gray eyes crashed into his with a dark intensity that was meant to tell him to back off, but he wasn’t about to let this go. “I don’t believe that.”
“Then I don’t know what to tell you.” She tried to spin away, but he tightened his hold.
“What about the truth?”
She glared at him, a storm brewing in her irises. Gray tuned to black, but he didn’t as much as blink. “I didn’t want you to fail,” she said, her voice a mere whisper.
“Why not?” Brooke loved to watch people fail; it gave her fodder for her gossip mill.
She rolled her eyes. “Because.”
“Because why?” There weren’t many things Brooke did without getting something in return. He didn’t offer her compensation, and she turned down his offer to take her to Fairview. “There has to be a reason,” he said. “You wouldn’t just help me unless—”
“I like you! Okay?” She shook her head, diverting her eyes to the floor as she pulled free from his grip. “I’ve always liked you, and I didn’t want to see you fail when I know you’re capable of doing amazing things.”
He searched for words, but he kept coming back to the same statement. “I thought you hated me.”
She blinked up, a vulnerability shining through her bitter cold front. “In my experience, hating someone is easier.” She swiped a few stray hairs from he
r face, shyly looking away. “Can you get the cheese out of the bottom drawer in the fridge?” she asked, and just like that, she changed the subject.
He stared at the back of her head as she tended to the food. Her movements were less confident but it would only be noticeable to someone who knew her well.
She liked him? Did that mean she liked him as a friend and could tolerate him or did it mean something more?
While he thought it over in his mind, he did as she asked, getting the sliced provolone and handing it over. She turned the temperature of the burner down to low and placed slice after slice of cheese on top of the meat mixture.
While the cheese melted, she got down two plates from the cabinet next to the fridge.
Tyler stood back, letting her work as he mulled over what Brooke had said. It wasn’t the part where she actually admitted that she liked him that he was clinging to, though he couldn’t help but wonder how much she actually did, but his mind was stuck on the last thing she had said. In my experience, hating someone is easier
What was that supposed to mean exactly? Did she purposely hate people to keep them from getting too close? It would make sense, since she was notoriously aloof, but why would she want to keep him of all people from getting too close?
“Get ready to have your mind blown,” she said, holding out a plate to him. Her smile looked forced, covering up uncertainty. A sloppy Joe was piled high, and while it looked like the least appetizing thing, it smelled amazing.
Brooke took her plate and sat at the kitchen table, and he followed, sitting across from her on the other side. He looked down at the disaster waiting to happen and surveyed his options before glancing over to Brooke. “Any advice on how to tackle this thing?”
“Pick it up,” she said, taking her own sandwich in her hand. “Take a big bite and hope for the best.” She sunk her teeth into the bun, and meat, peppers, and cheese oozed out the sides. “Mmm,” she said, and he laughed as juices trickled down her face.
Blindsided by Brooke Page 7
