Somebody Like You (Starlight Hill Series Book 2)

by Bell, Heatherly

  Brooke’s cellphone rang and she checked the caller ID. No time to talk to anyone that wasn’t of the utmost importance. But it was Ivey calling again, for the third time in as many days.

  “Hey,” Brooke said as she picked up the phone.

  “You picked up! I was getting ready to leave another voice mail. You do remember me, don’t you? Ivey Garner? Your bff?”

  “I’m a bad friend. I’m sorry. It’s crazy, getting ready for opening next week. So many things to do.”

  “So delegate.”

  “I am, but—”

  “Wait. Don’t tell me. You want everything to be perfect.”

  “Well, okay. Sue me. It does have to be perfect.” Billy depended on her, and she wouldn’t let him down. Not when he made her feel so— so— what was the word?

  “Some little thing is bound to go wrong. Go with the flow, enjoy it. Everyone is talking about this. It’s going to be great, no matter what.”

  “George and Chelsea are coming.”

  “No.”

  “I had to invite them. But I didn’t expect them to come.”

  “That’s ballsy of him. Do you think he’ll be a problem?”

  “Nah, I got it. If he tries anything, I’ll kick him where it hurts.” He wouldn’t ruin this day for Billy, Pop, and Eileen. Even Scott and Wallace were excited.

  “How are things going with Lover Boy?”

  Brooke felt herself smile. “Good.” So good. She didn’t have words for how good. Fantastic, maybe.

  “Uh-huh. Care to elaborate?”

  How did a girl say it exactly? Without sounding like an idiot? He makes me feel — wanted. Safe. “I’m not sure how to explain it. I— he— he’s so—

  “Oh for crying out loud, Brooke, you’re in love!”

  “No. I’m not.” Why did her face suddenly feel like someone had lit a match next to it?

  “You fooled around and fell in love,” Ivey said and started singing the song.

  “Stop. Don’t be stupid. How can I be in love? It can’t happen. It just can’t.” First Eileen, now Brooke. All around, women dropping like flies. Well, she couldn’t do it. She wasn’t naïve like sweet Eileen. No, Brooke had her mom to remind her that the Miller women were unlucky enough. And if Mom wasn’t enough, Brooke had a string of failed relationships to drive the point home.

  “It’s about time you fell in love. I was beginning to think you might have a missing gene.”

  “I don’t have a missing gene. Can I help it if I got an early education in what not to do? My parents taught me well.”

  “Good, then you’ll just avoid those mistakes.”

  “Falling in love would be the mistake.” She only wanted to enjoy this time, as long as it lasted. It might go down as the single most erotic time of her life.

  “You don’t believe that,” Ivey said. “Look at me and Jeff.”

  “Sure, when you want to talk about young first love. That’s powerful.”

  “Stop with the first love thing. So what if you didn’t meet someone in high school? Not too many people did. What if this is your first love?”

  “C’mon, Ivey.”

  First love at her age? Didn’t that usually happen when you were still so young you might as well believe in the Easter Bunny as in the fact that two people were forever intended for each other? And yet, if she were being honest she had to admit that she’d always envied Ivey and Jeff— it was all so romantic. They’d been each other’s firsts in every way. Five years apart, and they still loved each other because they’d never stopped. Le sigh.

  Well, apparently she still believed in fairy tales. Just not for her. They were for other girls. Girls who cried, girls who liked pink, unicorns and rainbows. Girls like Ivey.

  Not Brooke.

  She didn’t want to put a label on what she and Billy had. “So what, exactly, makes you think I’m in love?”

  “Oh I don’t know. Maybe it’s the fact that you haven’t talked about— it. At all.”

  “It?” Really, sometimes Ivey could be so vague.

  “Sex, Brooke. You haven’t talked about the sex. And you always liked to talk about it. Almost like a man, for crying out loud.”

  She hadn’t talked about the best sex she’d ever had in her life? Seriously? Maybe it was because it felt too private, somehow. Which was strange because she told Ivey, her best friend since high school, pretty much everything. Why hadn’t she told her about the mind blowing, exciting, and toe curling sex with Billy?

  “I haven’t?” Brooke squeaked.

  Brooke was still trying to figure that out when Ivey spoke. “I think it’s because this time maybe it’s too special. You’re not having sex, you’re making love. It’s different. Maybe it’s because you fooled around and fell in love.” Ivey started singing again. At least she had a good voice.

  “Stop it!” Brooke laughed into the phone.

  “So what is going on between you two?” Ivey pressed. “Can I have a relationship status update?”

  “It’s complicated.” Brooke answered. And she wasn’t kidding or being cute or trite. Complicated was how she’d describe Billy in a nutshell. “He’s not being honest with me. Something is going on, I can tell. He’s not done with baseball, no matter what he says.”

  “What if he isn’t?” Ivey asked.

  “I’m not exactly jock girlfriend material.” Fallon, his ex-girlfriend and ex-head cheerleader, now she was a jock girlfriend. Definitely not Brooke.

  Chapter 15

  Billy stood on the balcony gazing at the land he’d once assumed would be nothing but trouble, and only a promise he’d made to the grandfather he adored. The vineyard looked beautiful this morning, bathed in the glow of the soft sunrise on the day before their Grand Opening.

  Yes, this would work.

  He’d finally calmed Pop down, and made him realize that his contribution to the family enterprise hung on more than an old frenemy’s secret recipe. The old man had listened, and decided that singing to the grapes would make them sweeter. If it worked as he thought it would, he planned to write down his own secret recipe, songs and lyrics included. Fine with Billy. Even Brooke had accepted Pop’s almost constant presence among the rows of vines. Every now and again Billy would catch her laughing with Pop, tossing that wild mane of hair, appearing genuinely interested in what he had to say. And every time something inside Billy’s heart cracked open.

  Shit, he had it bad. Who would have thought in a million years he’d wind up falling for Brooke Miller? He had, for one. A long time ago. Ten years to be exact, from the first time he’d kissed Brooke Miller in his car after a Varsity basketball game.

  All those years ago, he’d found her standing alone outside waiting for a ride, shivering in the cool January air.

  “Hey, Bungee,” he’d said. “Did you come see the game?”

  She’d given him the Death Stare. “Are you kidding me?”

  “So, no?” He grinned. So what, he’d enjoyed pushing her buttons even then. “They won.”

  “Oh joy.” She shivered in her thin short sleeved black top and jeans. No jacket. She might not be anything like the cheerleaders he usually dated, but when it came to clothing it seemed to him that all girls were created equal. Ill prepared.

  He slipped off his varsity jacket and offered it to her. “Here.”

  He might as well have offered her a rattlesnake for the way she looked at it.

  He rolled his eyes. “Seriously?”

  “My ride will be here any minute.” Her voice shook a little, probably from the cold.

  “Suit yourself.”

  A second later he caught her staring longingly at the jacket, and shoved it into her hands. “Thanks,” she said, falling into it.

  She was so tiny that the sleeves of the jacket hung well over her hands. “What are you looking at, Hotshot?”

  “You. Is that a crime?”

  “Where’s your girlfriend?” She said the word ‘girlfriend’ in the same tone one might say ‘asshole.�
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  “If you mean Fallon, we broke up.”

  “Oh yeah? Why? Is she not perky enough?”

  Well, hell, why not tell her? “I’m going to Chicago State on a full ride and I guess she’s upset I didn’t ask her to marry me and come along.” He shrugged. Women.

  Brooke’s eyes widened. He’d probably never seen her that animated before. “You’re going to Chicago State?”

  “Is that so shocking? My grades are good enough.” He didn’t appreciate the ‘stupid’ label being attached to every jock.

  Brooke shook her head. “No, it’s just that’s where I’m going.”

  “Yeah?” That wasn’t a surprise, since Brooke might well be the smartest girl in their senior class.

  Brooke nearly smiled at him. He hadn’t seen her smile much, but the few times he had there’d been a strong pull of lust that followed. It didn’t make any sense, but he figured he didn’t have any control over those natural impulses. Teenage guy and all.

  “Maybe I’ll see you there.” Brooke said, which shocked him.

  But then again, college would be different and there wouldn’t be all of the clear lines between cliques and groups of kids. That’s what Mom said, anyway.

  “Hell, yeah. We should make plans to meet up.”

  Brooke had been about to say something when the sky let loose with a cloudburst that had the few remaining stragglers after the game running for their cars.

  “Come on,” Billy grabbed Brooke’s hand and tugged her along to his car.

  Once inside the car, she turned to him, hair damp, black eyeliner smeared. Looking a bit like a drowned squirrel. “I said I have a ride.”

  “Yeah, well you can wait for them here.” He handed her a few tissues from out of his glove compartment.

  Brooke started wiping away at her face, and a funny thing happened. All the black eye makeup came off and underneath it all was a freaking knock-out. Who knew? Brooke had amazing amber eyes— eyes that looked right through a person. How had he not noticed that before?

  She caught him staring. “What? Did I miss something?” She pulled down the visor and blotted at her face.

  “No. You just look much better without all that black shit all over your eyes.”

  She gave him a long look. “What do you know Hotshot? We can’t all be cheerleaders.”

  “I know you’re beautiful. Without all that shit on your eyes.” There. He’d said it. The worst she could do was jump out of the car into the pouring rain. He pretty much had her now as a captive audience.

  Brooke surprised him by laughing. “Tell me what you really think.”

  How was a guy supposed to let that opening go unchecked? “All right. I think you should let me kiss you. Right here, right now.”

  She stared at him, incredulous. “What’s wrong with you? Is this some kind of a joke? Did you and your buddies come up with this one? Let’s see if we can get Brooke to loosen up?”

  She put her hand on the car door, even if the rain was still coming down in sheets.

  He reached for her arm. “Don’t go. You don’t have to kiss me. Sorry I asked.”

  She sat back in her seat and those gorgeous eyes narrowed. “Why did you ask, exactly?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “Because I’m a guy. And you’re beautiful.”

  “It’s not like I haven’t been kissed before, lots of times. Ted Coffington kissed me last week.”

  He scoffed. “Then let me show you what a jock kisses like.” Dammit, why couldn’t he stop?

  “Why? Is it different?”

  She couldn’t seriously think— shit, Billy, stop it. Stop messing with her. She could be your first friend at Chicago State. You could hang out and study together, maybe even a double date or two. But kissing her might change things. Maybe she’d get all hung up on him like Fallon.

  Nah, not Brooke. Right? “I guess I’d have to leave it to you to tell me.”

  Silence permeated inside, and outside the rain softly pelted the roof of his car. Brooke gazed out at the dark smoky night, and then turned to him.

  “All right. Let’s give it a try.”

  Not in his wildest dreams had he ever expected she’d take him up on it. His palms broke out in a sweat. “Yeah?”

  “Why not? But if you tell any one of your friends, if you tell anyone, Billy Turlock, I swear I’ll personally castrate you.”

  “Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Plenty of time to talk about that part of his anatomy later. He hoped. “You’re going to have to come a little closer.”

  “Why don’t you come closer?” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

  So far this was not going well. He didn’t have a big car, but why did it feel like there were one hundred feet between him and Brooke?

  But something in him, probably his hormones, took over and Billy eased his body closer to Brooke erasing some of the distance, real and imagined, between them. At the same time, he reached for her neck, pulling her closer. He was gratified when she didn’t resist and leaned in.

  Truth told, he didn’t hold out much hope for that kiss. Figured it would be a big fat zero and they’d both move on. He hadn’t thought the one kiss would not be enough, but that’s exactly what happened.

  After the kiss, which did include some tongue action, Brooke gazed at him. “That wasn’t so different.”

  It had been for him, but for the sake of saving face he had to agree. “Let me try again.”

  “Oh, nice try.”

  He’d grinned and pulled her close again. This time the kiss surprised them both. He could tell it had for Brooke, because she moaned a little and one hand reached for his hair. The kiss lasted long enough for Billy to get hard and all the windows to steam up.

  When Brooke pulled back she’d said, “Okaaay. Enough of that.”

  Right. Enough of that, Billy had to agree. Much more and he’d be begging Brooke to get in the back seat with him. And that would definitely change everything.

  Turned out Brooke’s ride didn’t show, so he’d driven her home himself. On the way they’d talked about Brooke’s latest cause, Save the Whales or the elephants or the tigers. Who could remember now? Of course he’d promised to sign the petition, as always.

  He’d also promised they’d be in touch, so that they could make plans to meet up in Chicago. Brooke had smiled again, and the lust factor skyrocketed into the double digits. “Good thing you’re going to college. That way you’ll have a career to fall back on just in case.”

  “Right.”

  “I was worried I wouldn’t know anyone in Chicago,” she said as she got out of his car. “Even though it is a jock, I’ll take it. Good night, Hotshot.”

  “Night, Bungee.”

  But there’d been no Chicago State for him. Turned out he’d been spotted by a talent scout. When faced with the option of playing baseball in the minor leagues or going to Chicago to freeze to death, the option was a no-brainer to an eighteen-year-old man-child. Mom had tried to talk him out of it, telling him that an education was priceless. All the stuff one might expect from a parent.

  He hadn’t listened. More than anything he wanted to play baseball.

  Brooke, naturally, had never been more than a second thought in his addled teenaged brain. Nor had any other girl. He’d been too caught up in his good fortune, the newspaper headlines, the pride of his town. He would play baseball for a living; maybe work hard enough to make it to the major leagues.

  He didn’t tell Brooke personally, but she’d obviously heard, just as everyone else in Starlight Hill. She’d never talked to him again.

  Every now and again when he’d been in Chicago, it wasn’t so much the University and missed opportunity that called to him but the girl he realized attended it. The girl whose one kiss forever held top billing in the marquee of his sex life, above girls who’d given him far more.

  Talk about second chances.

  He understood flings, having spent much of the past ten years with them playing front and center in
his life.

  It was convenient. Easy.

  Brooke Miller was no fling. Not for him.

  She fit him like his favorite glove. His family loved her as much as he did, clearly. And he was beginning to think that despite her occasional complaints about them, she loved his family right back.

  Giancarlo’s background check had returned and the man was practically a saint. So while Billy didn’t want to think of what unsaintly thoughts had crossed the man’s mind to want to marry Mom so quickly, he had to approve. He couldn’t have picked a better man himself. Thanks to Brooke, his mother was the happiest he’d seen her in decades. And she’d stayed away from DateaDeusch.com.

  Yet for the first time in his life, he wasn’t sure what the girl wanted. Brooke didn’t seem to need him, other than for sex. While he was more than happy to provide an endless supply, he wanted more.

  The jock and the anti-jock weren’t an issue any more. Despite what Brooke believed, he understood baseball had to be a part of his past. No matter how much he missed it. That part of his life was over, and one day it might be easier to go to the Major League games and be happy for his friends and former teammates. Right now it only made his gut squeeze with envy, a feeling he didn’t much care to indulge.

  Brooke hated athletes and what they tended to represent, yet she’d encouraged him to find a way to stay involved with the sport.

  He wasn’t sure what to make of that.

  But with any luck she felt the same way he did. She’d want to take this to the next level— marriage, babies, the whole stinking bit. It had never in his life held such appeal.

  After all, if she didn’t have strong feelings for him, why would she risk a job she obviously wanted and needed by sleeping with him?

  *****

  Brooke wasn’t sure how she felt about the media when it came to opening night. They’d been falling all over themselves to get photos of Billy and coverage of the opening of the hometown hero’s vineyard. Articles appeared in the paper as quickly as she could get a press release out. It made sense because it was a nice human interest story: retired pitcher returns to hometown and bolsters the local economy. Several travel magazines had approached her regarding future articles, all of them focused on Billy. Free publicity.