The Best Man in Texas

by Tanya Michaels

  Brooke breathed in the scent of him, marveling that the simple act of inhaling could make her feel so guilty. She knew the brand name of the cologne that Giff favored, and she was pretty sure she liked it. But she was hard-pressed to remember how it smelled. Flutters of panic trembled through her midsection. Why was she able to remember her one close dance with Jake with more clarity than the many kisses she’d exchanged with her fiancé?

  “Says here that they’ve acquired several new species of sharks.”

  A sand tiger shark, peering at them with its dead eyes, flicked its tail and came toward the glass right where Brooke stood.

  “Creepy,” she declared, mesmerized despite herself. “But kind of awesome at the same time.”

  The smile in his voice was evident when Jake said, “We’ll make an adventurer of you yet. Sharks and the swing-along bridge in one day?” He referred to the one-hundred-and-eighty-foot bridge they’d used to cross over a gorge this morning.

  Nudging her with his shoulder, he asked, “Does this mean you’re becoming more open to taking chances?”

  She glanced back but immediately wished she hadn’t, afraid of what he might read in her eyes. “Probably not.” After two relatively joyful days, she was forced to admit that occasional spontaneity could be diverting. But that didn’t justify doing something as stupid as taking chances with her heart. Or Giff’s.

  “Jake. I—” She hadn’t even realized she was backing away from him until she bumped into the railing between visitors and glass. She swallowed, unsure how to proceed.

  “I have a confession to make,” Jake said in a low voice.

  “Y-you do?”

  “Yeah. I hope it won’t make you think less of me, but… Watching these fish and crustaceans all day? I’m craving seafood for lunch.”

  Her legs sagged in relief. That was his admission?

  “I know, I know,” he was saying, “I should be appreciating the beauty of nature and feeling a renewed determination toward protecting the environment. And I do feel all of that. But man I could go for some crab legs and shrimp. Have I horrified you?”

  “Yes, I’m scandalized and will probably need therapy to recover from the trauma,” she drawled, amazed that she could joke when the truth was, she wanted to duck into a nearby darkened corner and have a good cry. Even though he’d given her no overt reason to think it, she’d somehow drawn the conclusion that he’d wanted to kiss her and might be working his way up to divulging that.

  The hell of it was, she had no idea what she would have done if he had.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Jake?” Giff’s voice through the phone lines held no trace of the hostility from their post-party argument, but it was full of surprise. “It’s so weird that you’re calling. I just got off the phone with Brooke.”

  “Oh?” Jake sat heavily on the foot of the bed, glancing at the door that separated him and Brooke. “What did she have to say about the trip?”

  “She said she’s having a good time,” Giff began dubiously, “but something in her voice… She wasn’t herself. Is she upset for some reason? You aren’t giving her a hard time, are you?”

  “I am, but only in jest. And trust me, she gives back as good as she gets.” He grinned, recalling some of her feistier quips this morning. “I respect that in a woman.”

  “Just be careful, will you? She takes things more seriously than you do. I don’t want you unintentionally hurting her feelings.”

  Jake envisioned the look she’d given him in front of the shark tank today, the wounded wariness in her blue eyes. Had he hurt her already?

  Disgust with himself made his voice rough. “I realize chivalry is your thing and I’m sure the ladies appreciate that, but has it ever occurred to you that it’s not healthy for her—for anyone—to take life so seriously all of the time? Maybe she just needs…”

  “She’s perfect the way she is,” Giff said loyally.

  Incongruously Jake strongly disagreed and yet somehow thought his friend was completely right. Brooke had her flaws, but he was coming to enjoy them. If I could change any one thing about her, I’m not sure I would.

  “I should be getting back to work,” Giff said.

  “It’s five o’clock on a Friday, man. Why not kick off your weekend?” Jake had been thinking that Brooke didn’t need to be so serious and cautious all of the time, but it would do Giff a world of good to have someone shake his life up a little, too.

  “But it’s only four in Denver, and I have a client there that I’ve been meaning to call all day. I told you how much business has picked up lately.” Giff had explained that since some companies were trying to save money by reducing full-time positions in-house, it had actually created a few new short-term opportunities for independent contractors. “Oh, but before I let you go, I talked to Mom today. She asked you to bring her back some postcards. And you know her birthday’s coming up this week, right?”

  “Absolutely. We taking her to Santa Lucia’s?” Whenever Jake was stateside and Giff was in town, they always took Grace to her favorite Italian restaurant for her birthday. “The three of us going there is tradition.”

  “Four of us now,” Giff said. “Brooke will be joining us.”

  Of course she would. From here on out, she would be at dinners and holiday gatherings. Within Jake’s life but out of his reach.

  He swallowed hard. “Speaking of dinner. Brooke and I should be going, too. Did she tell you about our plans for tonight?”

  “Something about a lantern-lit cave,” Giff said distractedly. The sound of computer keys being struck accompanied his words. He was probably answering an e-mail while he talked.

  Pay attention, Jake wanted to shout at him. Turn off your computer and ask yourself why you’re working on a Friday night while another man is about to take your beautiful fiancée out for the evening. But he couldn’t say that because Giff would point out that he trusted Jake completely.

  Giff had always been too damn decent for his own good.

  “MIND IF, INSTEAD OF USING the AC, we roll down the windows?” Brooke asked. As much as she legitimately wanted to feel the fresh air against her face, the request was also an excuse to simply say something. Neither of them had spoken two words since leaving Ruby Falls. The tour had been well-staged, but the deliberately ethereal atmosphere had only added to her jumpy, restless mood.

  “Sounds good,” Jake said, turning off the air-conditioning.

  As he lowered the power windows, the sound of the wind escalated until it filled the interior of the car. Brooke should have felt grateful. The noise gave them an excuse not to talk. Tomorrow, they left for Texas. If she could just get home without saying something stupid, something she wouldn’t be able to take back…

  But today had proven that feelings didn’t simply go away if she refused to voice them. They kept circling, waiting to strike.

  Dinner had started out all right. Despite some initial tension, she’d relaxed after a glass of wine and Jake had made her laugh. She’d enjoyed the great meal and even better company up until dessert, when she’d had the traitorous thought that the night was one of the best dates she’d had in years. Immediately she’d tried to backpedal and assure herself that it hadn’t been a date. But, while neither she nor Jake had said anything inappropriate, she couldn’t deny a flirtatious undertone between them.

  A spark.

  Jake was a fireman. She was sure he could attest to the fact that sparks seemed bright and exciting, until they made contact and burned your life down around you.

  As if he could feel her growing trepidation, Jake cut his eyes toward her. “Are you okay? I called Giff earlier, and he asked if maybe you were upset about something.”

  “I called Giff, too.” Guilty minds think alike? Or was the disturbing chemistry she felt with Jake one-sided, leaving him with a clear conscience?

  “He mentioned. I’m sure he was glad to hear from you. Probably misses you.”

  “I’ve only been gone since yesterday,
” she scoffed. Feeling defensive that she hadn’t missed Giff more, she added, “I don’t think I could marry a man so needy that he fell apart without me after forty-eight hours.”

  “You can miss someone without ‘falling apart,’” Jake objected. “You can hear a joke you want to share with them, want to make them laugh. You can think about what they were wearing the last time you saw them and look forward to your next meeting. You can replay pieces of conversation in your head and appreciate someone who makes you see the world a little bit differently.”

  He’d done more than slightly alter her view of the world; he’d blown her world off its axis with nuclear force.

  “Jake,” she said warningly. Her heart was racing. At the aquarium, she’d been able to convince herself that whatever moment she’d dreamt up between them had been a product of her imagination. But she wasn’t imagining the intensity of his voice.

  “I think about you when you’re not there,” he admitted hoarsely.

  He slowed down to take the turn into the hotel parking lot, and for a moment Brooke’s instinct to flee was so strong that she entertained the notion of jumping from the moving vehicle. Not just because of what she was afraid he might say next, but because it was becoming impossible to pretend that she didn’t think about him constantly.

  “The week after we went to that concert?” he pressed. “One of the guys at the station was playing a CD I’d never heard before, and I found myself wondering what you’d think of the band. And that day you came to see me after that little girl was hit? I thought about you all night. Every time I was frustrated that I couldn’t do more to help her, worried that she might take a turn for the worse… I don’t know. Remembering your visit and knowing you were there for me—”

  “Stop,” she pleaded.

  “Are you saying we can’t be friends?”

  “Do you talk to all your ‘friends’ like this?” she snapped, her eyes stinging. She barely heard the catch in her own voice.

  He parked the car, and Brooke tried to follow through on her impulse to run from what she was feeling. But her vision was blurred and her hands shook as she wrestled with the seat belt.

  “Here.” Reaching over, Jake pressed the button that freed her. But then he lifted his finger to her cheek, brushing away a tear with paralyzing tenderness. “Please don’t cry.”

  “I wasn’t looking for… I would never…” She hiccupped, the sound reminding her distantly of Didi and the way her mother always got the hiccups during her crying jags.

  No, no, no! Brooke didn’t want drama and crying and that ridiculous have-to-have-you-or-I’ll-die passion. She wanted…

  Involuntarily she turned to look at Jake, his profile as familiar and dear to her as if she’d known him her whole life rather than just a month. Right now, his handsome features were strained with worry and anger. She found herself wanting to take him in her arms and console him even though she was the one crying.

  He must have been having the same reaction because he scooted closer to her, the proximity made awkward because of the armrest and parking brake. Then he put his arm around her, pressing her head to his shoulder.

  “I know,” he murmured.

  And she believed he truly did understand what she was experiencing even though she’d yet to express an articulate thought.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, accepting his comfort for just a second, allowing herself this luxury before reason returned. Once it did, she had to tell him that this was a mistake, that they should make an effort not to be in the same room with each other for at least a little while. Maybe the next forty or fifty years.

  When she opened her eyes again, it was to find Jake with his head tilted back against the seat, meeting her gaze with disconcerting intimacy. He was far too close. And yet it took everything in her not to wiggle closer to him. It would only be a matter of breaths before her lips met his.

  Obviously she had no poker face because no sooner had she had the thought than his gaze dropped to her mouth. Heat flooded her body.

  And remorse flooded her mind.

  Brooke straightened abruptly. “We would both hate ourselves. And I’d have to bear the responsibility of not just betraying a man I care deeply about but of coming between the two of you. You love Giff like a brother,” she reminded him.

  “Do you?” Jake challenged. “Love him, I mean?”

  For a nanosecond, she was so filled with outrage that she wanted to strike out at him. But she’d worked her entire adult life to sublimate emotion to sensibility. As a result, she sounded credibly calm when she said, “I have to go.”

  “That’s not an answer.” His voice was more broken than accusatory.

  She didn’t look back as she opened the car door. “It’s the only one I can give you.”

  BY NOON SATURDAY, JAKE was sick of his own company and spoiling for a fight. The only interaction he’d had with Brooke all day was the voice mail she’d left on his hotel phone. He couldn’t believe that it was coincidence she’d happened to call during the ten minutes he was in the shower. Had she been lying awake in the room next door, listening for the sound of the pipes?

  What the message said, technically, was, “It’s Brooke. I know we had an itinerary for this morning, but I didn’t get much rest last night. I think I’m just going to sleep in. You go on without me and I’ll meet you in the lobby at checkout time.”

  What the message meant was, “You are an unscrupulous bastard in complete violation of the bro-code, and I am more comfortable avoiding my feelings than confronting you.” Both sentiments were unfortunately accurate.

  Fine. He was better off without her disturbing his calm anyway. After all, he made most of these trips by himself and had always found them rejuvenating. It wouldn’t bother him in the least to have a few hours to himself.

  Or, it shouldn’t have. But it wasn’t the same, aimlessly sightseeing without Brooke keeping him on schedule and snapping dozens of pictures with her digital camera. Yesterday, an elderly woman had offered to take a picture for Brooke. “Of you and your boyfriend, dear. Darn shame such a good-looking couple isn’t in the shot together.” Brooke had blushed furiously, explaining that they weren’t romantically involved, that she was “only here on business.”

  Truthfully, he’d found himself stung by her instantaneous denial of any personal bond.

  Last night he’d proven there was something between them. What had it really accomplished, though? He’d tried to push her into admitting that her feelings for Giff didn’t run that deep—not deep enough to spend an entire lifetime together—but all he’d succeeded in doing was pushing her away. Plus he’d stabbed his friend in the back in the process.

  I am a real piece of work. He heard long-ago criticisms from his dad, drunken predictions that Jake was a pain in the ass who wouldn’t amount to anything. Ironically those memories didn’t burn as much as the recollection of Giff’s father, Mr. Baker, smiling at Jake in pride. He believed in me. And how had Jake repaid that faith—by making a play for Giff’s soon-to-be wife?

  They shouldn’t be getting married at all, an inner voice stubbornly insisted. They’re making a mistake.

  And Jake should know. He was fast becoming an expert on mistakes.

  THOUGH SHE’D BOUNCED AROUND between several different cities in the state, Brooke had lived in Texas since the eighth grade. Seeing the aerial view as Boom lowered their altitude reminded her how flat the state was—except for the aptly named Hill Country. Long rural stretches, punctuated below by patchwork pastureland, suddenly gave way to concrete labyrinths like Dallas or Houston. It reminded her of some grandiose monstrosity of architecture that had been cobbled together in contrasting styles but was uniquely beautiful despite itself. Texas had definitely become home.

  And it was where she planned to build her future home, raising her own children. Normally thoughts like that worked as meditation. She wished she could close her eyes, hold her breath for twenty beats and let the promise of a cherishe
d future soothe her abraded nerves. But the faces of her storybook children, the ones she’d all but named in her imagination, were now indistinct, the picture fuzzy as if she had bad cable reception.

  She fought the urge to glare at Jake. Not so much because the gesture would be petty—it wasn’t as if she herself was blameless in their unfortunate attraction—but because he would no doubt notice. For the most part, they’d successfully ignored each other since leaving the hotel, and she didn’t want to do anything to alter that.

  She was so tied up in knots that this time she barely noticed when the plane touched down on the runway. Thank God. Their weekend together was over.

  Except, of course, for the extremely awkward car ride still ahead. What were the odds that Houston traffic would be sparse, with no detours, motor vehicle accidents or construction delays?

  Determined not to rock the boat, she didn’t protest when Jake grabbed her rolling suitcase, even though she could have just as easily got it herself. Nor did she say anything when he opened the passenger door for her, although she did hold herself involuntarily rigid as she passed by him.

  They’d only made it to the edge of the parking lot before he asked with deceptive nonchalance, “So, when will the story run?”

  “Depends on a few factors, but probably Friday.” The idea of writing it, of sorting through the many pictures she’d taken of him and capturing details of their trip for posterity, made her cringe inwardly.

  She’d much rather forget the past couple of days had ever happened. She would prefer to go back to the mature, sensible person she’d been when she boarded Boom’s Skyhawk, instead of rediscovering a foolish girl who’d felt too passionately and dreamed too ambitiously.

  This isn’t college. Brooke was a grown woman capable of making intelligent decisions.

  “And then I guess it’s back to the weddings beat?” he asked, his smile approximately the same temperature as an ice cube.

  “That’s right. Beginning with my wedding.”